Identity Unveiled, Powers Unsheathed
by shiningbanana
Summary: To Elizabette Allan, an orphan, home is a dark place of danger and mystery. The only location where she feels safe is in the forest. But when she meets Legolas Thranduilion... COMPLETE
1. Old Oak

**shiningbanana presents: Identity Unveiled, Powers Unsheathed**

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**Full Summary:**

**To most, home is the place where they have lived most of their lives, a safe place where nothing can harm them. To Elizabette Allan, an orphan, home is a dark place of danger and mystery. The only location where she feels safe is in the forest. But when she meets Legolas from Middle- Earth, her world changes. Legolas asks her to come to Middle- Earth, and, anxious to escape her orphanage, she agrees to go. **

**Elizabette's powers heal Legolas' people of a terrible disease. She is the only one who knows just what the disease can do- and the only one who can save the elves. **

**But when Elizabette falls ill of another cause, only Legolas knows why. He alone has the power to save her. Can she trust the elf? Will he ever understand what torments her? **

**If he does not help her, all of the elves will die. But can he? And when will he realize how to help her?**

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**Disclaimer: I am receiving no profit from this story. It was written for pleasure only. Most of the characters belong to J. R. R. Tolkien. I altered the family tree slightly, but most of it is taken from Professor Tolkien's book The Silmarillion. Lord Elrond had only one brother, but I gave him another one to make the story interesting. Elizabette Allan, her parents, and her grandparents are mine. Also, the nítir did not exist. That is from my own imagination. As far as I know, the Lieutenant of the Black Tower was not alternately the leader of an orphanage. King Thranduil belongs to Professor Tolkien, although his personality in this story is from my own imagination. Silrocca and Súláríl are my own characters, as are Duinral and Ryncäl. Anyone recognizable belongs to Professor Tolkien. **

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**Author's note: There is some Elvish in this story. This is Quenya, one of Professor Tolkien's languages. Yes, I know that the Silvan elves spoke Sindarin, but I could not find a Sindarin course. Please note that Elizabette does not know Elvish instinctively, as you would not know English if you had been raised in China by people speaking Chinese, though your parents were English. Also, note that there are two main plots that are interconnected: the disease and Elizabette's desire for family or friends. **

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**Note on pronunciation: In Quenya, there is no soft, hissing C as in English celebrate. Instead, always use a hard C as in English curtain. Thus, ósanwë-centa is 'o-san-wa- kenta' rather than 'o-san-wa- senta'. Also note that the symbol 'ë' is pronounced between 'eh' and 'ah', so tancavë (yes) is pronounced "tan-cav-aeh", with the ae slurred together. There is some variation. Rúnayë (the messenger) is pronounced 'Roo-naa-yaeh' but the 'aeh' sounds closer to 'ehy' than the previous example. **

**So... As an elf might say, haryë alassë, or enjoy. On to the story. **

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**Chapter 1: Old Oak**

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The day had been clear, but clouds were fast coming in, obscuring the dapples that had danced on the forest floor, the sunlight trickling through the shifting leaves. The sudden dimness was a startling contrast to the previously beautiful morning.

Elizabette sighed.

She sat on the soft carpet of moss under the leafy foliage of an old oak. Pressing back into the tree, she forced herself to relax, let go. In the real world, in the orphanage, she was pushed into the group- always one of the crowd. This was her escape. Her fantasy world.

She always rushed to the safety of the forest. Always she had felt safer in the forest, as if the solemn trees held something for her that nothing else did.

She'd run away again, this time from the guidance counselor. He'd summoned her, a rare occurrence and one that always called for caution. He was a dangerous man, she thought. She kept away as much as possible, but a direct summons she could not avoid. To her fortune, however, this time it had been merely to discuss her social skills, or lack thereof.

_Do you think I don't hate being the outcast, the black sheep?_ she demanded mentally at him as he shouted about her reclusiveness and the bad impression it gave others.

_You try to force me to be one of the crowd, even when you know that for some reason I'll always stand out. It's not even because I'm the only one with no family at all. They don't hate me because of that. It's something else, something I've never been sure of._

Her entire family, except for her, had been killed by a mysterious disease when she was no more than four. For a long while she'd thought that they hated her because she was the only one with no friends, no family, but she realized that it wasn't true.

_But I don't even want to be part of the crowd, much as it would help me. I don't want to be like everyone else. _

She'd run away, as soon as she was dismissed. To the forest, to the mysterious solemnness of the ancient oaks.

_But no one knows that I come here_, Elizabette thought. _No one cares enough to wonder_... Of course Matron would come looking for her later, but only because a lost orphan would give her a bad reputation.

Elizabette leaned back into the rough bark of the old oak, her favorite tree. She came to it when she could not escape her own thoughts. But the forest refused to comfort her today. A single tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a salty trail.

Another slipped down. Elizabette bowed her head, dropping her face to her knees. Her curly golden brown hair obscured her eyes.

After a few minutes, the quiet of the wood calmed her, and she rested her face quietly on her knees, breathing deeply. Then, she jolted up, alerted by the sharp crack of a broken twig.

She drew back against the tree, for suddenly there was a golden- haired boy in front of her, watching her warily.

"You need not be frightened," he stated softly. His voice was musical and blended with the bird calls and the soft rustling of the wind in the trees.

She ignored his comment and stared at him. He was clad in brown tunic and leggings of a strange material. Under the tunic was a crisp white shirt, and wrapped around his shoulders green cloak was a green cloak, tied in front. His leather boots rose almost to his knees, and slung on his back was a sleekly polished bow and a quiver of sharp gold- fletched arrows.

"Who are you, and where do you come from?" demanded Elizabette, knowing full well that he was certainly not one of the orphanage boys from the building across the woods. But who else had leave to be in the oak forest?

"My name is Legolas, and I come from the forest of Mirkwood."

Elizabette froze and started up from the oak. "What?" she exclaimed.

The boy's eyebrows creased into a delicate frown. "I am Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood," he repeated.

"That's impossible. It can't be true!"

"Why not?"

"Mirkwood's in Middle- Earth," Elizabette told him flatly. "You're trying to tell me that you come from a book."

"I said not that," protested the boy. "I know that I am in a world different than my own, but I know not what you may mean."

Elizabette stiffened slightly. "You say you come from another _world_?"

The boy nodded. "Would you care to hear my tale?"

Elizabette sat against the old oak again. "I would, in fact."

Legolas sat a few feet away. He paused for a moment before saying,

"I was sent from my homeland, Mirkwood, to seek an answer to a great mystery that has arisen. I traveled long and far, and came at last to Fangorn Forest. Something drew me to continue through it, and I came upon a solid wall on the western edge of the forest. It was constructed of an unfamiliar substance, green in color and quite slippery. It was near dark then, and I looked long around for a clue to this puzzle. I noticed that the trees seemed distressed and restless.

"As it was dark, I slept the night by the wall, and as the sun peeked her fiery edge over the dark horizon and light came into the forest, I saw a door cut discreetly into the wall. As the barrier stretched north and south as far as my eyes could see, I saw no reason not to open the door. When I did so, I saw an unfamiliar forest on the other side. Curious, I stepped through, and the wall behind me vanished."

"Can't you prove to me that you're not lying?" she asked skeptically.

"Tancavë, málo, ninuva," he replied softly.

Elizabette looked up, startled.

"Yes, friend, I shall," he translated. He stood and drew a gold- fletched arrow. Fitting it neatly to his bowstring, he let it fly. Elizabette turned to look as the arrow fluttered down. It pierced the center of a single flower.

"Well, I can see that you're an excellent archer," commented Elizabette. "But that doesn't make you an elf. You can't prove it."

"You must trust me," he replied. He went to retrieve the arrow. As he returned, he continued, "My father, King Thranduil, sent me to seek a solution to a great problem that has arisen.

"A strange disease has struck us. Three elves have died already. We know not how it has happened, or how to stop it."

Elizabette's mind snapped suddenly to her family members' mysterious deaths. "Yes," she sighed, half to herself. "I suppose I have to believe you. But you don't know how strange this is for me. In my world, you don't exist. You're a character in a book. Someone wrote about everything you've done. It can't be possible."

Legolas seemed intensely interested. "You say that someone has drafted a book about me?"

Elizabette shrugged one shoulder. "It's about you as well as many other people." She paused. "It's actually three books, a trilogy."

"I should like to see these books," the elf hinted.

"I can't show it to you if some things haven't happened yet," said Elizabette anxiously. If Legolas read what was to come, he might try to change it in some way, and ruin the entire future of Middle- Earth. "Is Aragorn the king of Gondor?" she asked after considering.

"Yes, he has been king for thirty years and more. The sea calls me, but I will not leave him until he lies in eternal sleep."

Elizabette nodded. "I will bring the books to you tomorrow, Your Highness," she assented respectfully.

"You may call me Legolas." He smiled at her.

She smiled back. "My name's Elizabette Allan," she informed him. She leaned back against the old oak, feeling its delight in being alive. The clouds had passed overhead and the sun shone golden on the treetops, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.

---

Matron's voice cut sharply into her drifting thoughts. She sat up straight. Legolas noticed a look of guarded fear on her face.

"Miss Allan!" Matron shouted into the forest. "You get out here this instant!"

Elizabette jumped to her feet. "I must go!" she told the elf hurriedly. "I will bring the books here about midday, if you can be here."

"Miss ALLAN!" Matron would not come into the forest, but the longer she had to wait, the worse it would be for Elizabette.

"I will be here." The elf handed Elizabette's notebook to her.

"Goodbye!" she called over her shoulder, running toward the edge of the forest.

"Namárië!" Legolas called back, following slowly.

Matron was waiting for Elizabette.

"You disobedient girl," she scolded angrily. "We have been looking everywhere for you."

Elizabette doubted that, but remained silent.

"As punishment, you will help the gardeners lay the pathways tomorrow morning."

Elizabette began to protest. She had seen the pieces of granite that the gardeners used for the pathways; huge boulder-like masses that had to be split into flat pieces before they were set into the earth. Elizabette had watched the gardeners before, but she had never heard of an orphan having to help.

Matron had always hated her.

She refused to hear Elizabette's protests. Legolas, watching from the shadows of the trees, saw Matron smack Elizabette sharply across the face. Unprepared, Elizabette flinched and stumbled. Legolas winced at her soft cry.

Elizabette hurried up to the formidable brick house, one hand pressed to her cheek. Matron was close behind.

Legolas overheard their conversation, an easy feat for his keen elf ears. He wasn't sure what a pathway was, but form Elizabette's reaction he supposed that it was something unfavorable.

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Elizabette sat stiffly on her bed. She shared the room with two other eighth- grade girls; Valerie and Amanda. They disliked her and she them.

The beds were all the same: hard, bumpy, and covered in stiff white sheets that chafed against Elizabette's skin. The other girls were at dinner, but she felt no inclination to go. No doubt she would be punished but she heeded not.

The only item in Elizabette's part of the room that differed from the others' was a small trunk made of dark carven wood. It sat forlornly at the foot of her bed. Elizabette had never known what it held; her uncle had sent it to her with a letter just before he died. Matron had locked the trunk, but even she didn't know of the letter. Even as a child, Elizabette had kept it hidden underneath the trunk, showing it to no one.

She remembered watching Matron lock the trunk. The elegant antique brass latch on the trunk was disfigured by the dull flat-steel padlock. She had tried before to break it but to no avail. It was locked as tightly as Elizabette was bound to the orphanage. Invisible chains held her, straining at her when she ventured even so far as the woods.

She slid off of her bed and carefully took out the letter. She had read it so many times that she had quite memorized it. It ran:

My Dearest Niece,

As I write this I am on my deathbed. You will not see me again. Already the weakness takes me. Remember to always follow your heart. When you are in great need, think of these words:

Power needed will serve you

Power given will aid you

Power extra will engulf you

Power stolen will break you

Your father bid me give them to you. Remember also that the sun shines through the darkest cloud and that revenge often rebounds against its wielder.

I fear that you will be the only survivor of our family. We will await you in the blessed lands.

Farewell. We will all miss you.

Your Uncle,

Thomas Rhuan Allan

Elizabette whispered the words to herself. "Power needed will serve you..." She had long puzzled over those words.

Enclosed in the envelope was a necklace; bright silver wrought into the delicate likeness of a star. She had never worn the tiny charm. She could feel strength and power in it and never dared to put it on. Sometimes it seemed to radiate white light. That was when she could feel the power most strongly.

Footsteps sounded suddenly in the hallway outside and Elizabette sat up quickly. She slid the necklace and letter under her pillow and pretended to be absorbed in her math textbook. Valerie entered and took something from her nightstand, casting her a disgusted glance before retreating. As she left, Elizabette closed the text and looked again at the necklace. Suddenly it blazed with the white light. She felt the power pulsing through it.

Her thoughts turned to her father's words; power needed, power given power extra, power stolen. Did this charm have power given or needed? Uncle Thom had given it to her, but she was unsure if that applied. _Did_ she need the power? Had someone else stolen it? How was she supposed to know?

Her thoughts whirled around in her head. Releasing them with an effort, she dragged her mind back to the present. She wondered once again what lay in the trunk. Matron did not know, Elizabette was certain.

The trunk itself was small, a foot high and a foot and a half long. In spite of its size, however, it was rather heavy. The things inside did not rattle, or, indeed, even slide around. Elizabette reasoned that they must be either packed tightly, close together, or padded well.

Elizabette hardly remembered her family. Her only clear memory was at a family gathering. She was not certain exactly how old she had been but she thought that it was perhaps only a few months before the disease struck.

She remembered posing with her family for a photograph. Her father and mother had stood behind her, her cousins Michael and Sara on either side. Her uncle, aunt, and grandparents stood to the side, smiling.

Elizabette had never seen the picture. She didn't know what happened to it.

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**So there it is, my first chapter. You met Legolas, yay! He's not really an interesting character at the moment. **

**I started this story last spring, in fact, and I just happened to find it in a back corner of one of my folders. Please review, I want to know what you think. **

**Thanks!**

**-shiningbanana**

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_**August 18, 2005: Rewritten to a certain extent. I changed Lizzy's grammar, trying to show more of a contrast between her speech and Legolas'. I also edited much of the sentence structure, because it's still in my seventh-grade writing style (which has changed over the last two years, thank God). If any of my readers are checking back, I'd really appreciate it if you tell me in a review whether you see any differences or not. Thanks!**_


	2. Cruelty

**Hey, I came out of hiding. Please read and review. If anyone has any ideas for the events in this story, please tell me in a review or email. Thanks!**

**Thanks to Fk306 animelover, Eowidith**(my first reviewer!)**, Mystical Full Moon Maiden**(Really? Elizabette sounds like you? Interesting.)** for reviewing. **

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**Chapter 2: Cruelty**

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The sharp clanging of the morning bell jerked Elizabette awake as usual. She dressed hurriedly and went to the dining hall. As she finished her tasteless and meager breakfast, Matron came to stand behind her.

"You will complete your punishment today until two o'clock this afternoon," Matron hissed menacingly. "Then, at three, you _will_ be in your room, studying. Am I understood?" She glared.

Elizabette nodded. "Yes, madam." She knew Matron wouldn't physically threaten her in public, but when there was no one else around, she was dangerous.

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Legolas sat safely in the cover of the trees, watching Elizabette and the gardeners carry heavy stones and place them in gouges cut into the earth. It seemed to be pointless labor to him. Elves walked on grass, could not these humans do the same?

Matron's head gardener forced Elizabette to do the most menial tasks: carrying the heaviest stones, digging the trenches to lay them in; or splitting them into flat pieces with a hammer and rock chisel.

Legolas hissed under his breath. The sag of Elizabette's shoulders told him clearly that she was weary, and the careful way she carried her hands suggested that they were rubbed raw from the rough stones and heavy work. Her jeans were muddy and covered in rock dust, and her curly hair was knotted and tangled.

The gardeners would not allow Elizabette to pause even for a break. Legolas gasped as the head gardener slapped her across the face when she sank to her knees in exhaustion. He could only watch as Elizabette was forced to stumble to the rock pile again.

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As soon as the gardeners saw fit to release her, Elizabette hurried up to her bedroom to change her clothes. The orphans were made to live with as few belongings as possible, as most of them had no money. Elizabette had only the one pair of jeans that fit her, and they were too dirty. She was forced to wear a pair that was too small and made her thin frame look even more skeletal when she wore them.

Elizabette took the requested trilogy carefully in her aching hands and hurried down to the forest. Legolas waited for her in the shadows of the trees.

"I'm really sorry I'm so late-" she began, but Legolas cut her off.

"It matters not, Lady Elizabette. I have been watching you."

"Please, call me Elizabette," she requested, sitting down by the old oak. She leaned back against the rough bark. The overcast sky shaded the dim forest below, making the faint rustle of leaves sound ominous, predicting a storm.

She held the books out to Legolas. As he took them, his finger brushed her palm and she flinched. Her hands were cut and bruised and rubbed raw. She had washed them, but, having nothing to bind them with, she had left them open.

Legolas saw her blanch and glanced at her hands. Hastily setting the books aside, he opened his leather pack, exposing a small bag of herbs. He gingerly selected a plant with dry, sage-green leaves, and crushed them so that a pleasant scent filled the air. He flattened the leaves out, and set them gently on Elizabette's palm. She winced at the light touch but remained still. Legolas bound each hand in a short length of soft white fabric and tied the ends securely.

"This is a plant that grows only in Mirkwood, my homeland," he told her softly. "We call it _olva envinya_, or 'plant that heals'. It remedies wounds more quickly than most other plants used by men. It is similar in nature to _athelas_, but unlike _athelas_ it heals only wounds caused by ordinary weapons. Its powers over evil or poisoned wounds are rather more limited."

"Thank you," said Elizabette gratefully, examining the cloth. "But I think that Matron will take it away if she catches me like this."

Legolas frowned. "Why would the gardeners not let you stop to rest this morning?"

Elizabette was embarrassed. "Oh... That was punishment for skipping dinner last night."

Legolas' sharp eyes widened in disbelief. "You are forced to work without rest, for the simple reason that you didn't attend a meal?"

Elizabette dropped her head. "Matron hates me."

"Why?"

"Because of my trunk." The words leapt unbidden to her lips, though, as she considered them, she saw that they could be true.

"Your trunk?"

"My uncle sent it to me before he died." She paused, unwilling to linger on that subject. "Legolas, I'm sorry I didn't believe you yesterday."

Legolas understood that she was deliberately changing the subject and respected that. "It is forgivable," he responded. "I did not expect instant belief."

He picked up one of the books and leafed through it. After a few moments, he looked up.

"I remember this," he told Elizabette, dropping his eyes to the page once more. "Mithrandir's return..." he continued. "I recognized him first..."

"Is he still in Middle- Earth?" Elizabette asked him.

"Yes. He travels around here and there, on his great horse Shadowfax. He visits Mirkwood when it suits him."

He turned back to the book. Elizabette heard him mutter,

"Ni áva hanya manens ná anwa." _(I cannot understand how it is possible.)_

She knew not what the words meant but recognized them as the Quenya language, the more formal tongue spoken by the elves of Middle- Earth. She did not interrupt Legolas to ask him what he had said.

After a time, the elf looked up and commented, "You informed me yesterday that your name is Elizabette. What is its meaning?"

"Meaning? I don't know. It's just a name."

"Do names not have meanings in this world?"

"No... They are just names..."

Legolas shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the books. The clanging of the afternoon bell startled them both.

"If Matron finds that I'm not in my bedroom she'll whip me," Elizabette told the elf. "I must go. I'll leave the books with you."

"Farewell," Legolas called after her. He noted that she was careful to keep her hands in front of her where they were less likely to be snagged by branches. _They must pain her greatly_, he thought compassionately. She did not run as she had before; she was weary. Yet the hour in the quiet forest, sitting, listing to the wind and the trees and the bird calls, had lifted her spirits and again her thoughts were quick and clear. She jumped nimbly over a log, her curly golden brown hair bouncing on her shoulders.

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Legolas sat again, his eyebrows creased into a frown. He did not understand the reason for Elizabette's toil that morning. Surely the gardeners could have gotten just as much work completed without her. Then, as his quick mind hit upon the answer, anger rushed through him. These people were making Elizabette work for their own entertainment, not to further the tasks. They enjoyed watching someone less fortunate then they labor without rest. He recalled what Elizabette had said- '_If Matron finds that I'm not in my bedroom she will whip me.' _This woman, Matron, would whip Elizabette just for not being in her room? Why did these people hold so much power?

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Elizabette hurried to her room but found when she arrived, to her dismay, that Amanda and Valerie were already there. They pretended not to notice her as usual, but they glanced at each other and the glance held some malice, something that warned Elizabette of trouble.

Indeed, when Matron appeared to confirm that she was there, studying, as ordered, Valerie rose respectfully and divulged,

"Madam, Miss Allan arrived here ten minutes after the bell rang." She smiled sweetly and sat again. Elizabette tensed. She knew what was coming.

"Miss Allan, what did I tell you?"

"To be here at three this afternoon," Elizabette muttered.

"Speak up, girl," Matron snapped, slapping her.

"To be here at three this afternoon," repeated Elizabette, louder.

"Yes, girl, and you were not. Come with me." She seized Elizabette's upper arm in an iron grip, and, with a savage wrench, dragged her along the hallways. Elizabette tried in vain to get away. She knew what would happen next: Matron would take her to an empty room and whip her with the riding whip that she always carried at her belt. Worse if she was unfortunate.

She was indeed quite right. Matron jerked her inside an unoccupied room and shoved her into a chair. She then glared menacingly at her prisoner.

Elizabette tried to push her bandaged hands into her pockets but Matron caught the movement and grabbed her hands.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded, ripping off the cloth with merciless roughness.

"I... I found the leaves in the woods," lied Elizabette messily.

Matron slapped her hands, causing her to wince with pain. "Now," she growled with a savage gleam in her eye, "Now you will pay for your disobedience." Without any warning, she sharply curled the whip around Elizabette's palm. Only Elizabette's proud spirit kept her from uttering a cry of distress. She gritted her teeth as Matron brought the whip down again.

---

By the time that Matron was finished, blood dripped from Elizabette's hands, staining the sleeves of her sweater. Matron suddenly pushed her from behind, forcing her to put out a hand to keep from falling. Elizabette could not restrain a whimper as her injured hands hit the gritty floor.

Matron laughed cruelly. "I shall break you yet, my dear." She left with a swish of her black skirts.

Elizabette allowed a soft hiss of pain to escape her as she pulled her palm from the floor. There was sand in the wounds and both hands bled profusely. She looked around for the leaves and the bandages that Legolas had given her. They seemed to be unharmed. She picked them up carefully, trying not to get blood on them, and hurried to the bathroom. She latched the door securely and carefully rinsed away the blood. The scratches from the morning's work seemed minimal compared to the horizontal cuts gouged into her hand from the whip.

The cuts were still oozing blood but Elizabette couldn't stem the flow. She pressed the leaves against the deepest slashes and bound them tightly in the soft white cloth.

When she returned to her room, Amanda and Valerie had departed for dinner. Elizabette grieved little for their absence. The pain in her hands did not subside and she had difficulty concentrating. Finally she succumbed to her weariness and slipped into sleep.

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**Sorry, really short chapter. I'll try to make the next one longer. Please review!**

**-**

_**August 18, 2005: Rewritten. This chapter was originally better written than the first. Again, if you read it before revisions, I'd love it if you'd tell me whether or not the changes make any difference.**_


	3. Escape

**I finally bothered to finish this chapter, so here it is. Still looking for other ideas to add... **

**Thanks to The Dark Flame for reviewing chapter two.**

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**Chapter 3: Escape**

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The sharp, throbbing pain woke her just before dawn. The blood had seeped through the bandages and the ache had doubled at least. The sheets were stained crimson where her hands had rested.

She unwrapped her fingers with care, mindful that Amanda was a light sleeper. She was unable to silence the whimper of pain when she gently pulled the leaves away from the trickling cuts but the others did not waken.

She knew that she would probably pay, both for her absence at dinner and the blood in her bed, but at that moment she did not care. She hastened to the bathroom and attempted to bind her hands with paper towels.

It was in vain. The blood refused to clot and streamed out the same as before. Elizabette bit back a scream of pain and frustration. She threw away the sodden paper and returned to her bedroom on silent feet.

Valerie and Amanda were awake and dressing when Elizabette entered the room. Both were turned toward their mirrors and did not notice her until she opened the door of her closet.

"There you are, Miss Allan." Amanda smiled sweetly, prissily tossing her thin blond hair over her shoulder. She very obviously considered her hair pretty and often compared it to Elizabette's curly tresses, thick and glossy though they were. Both Valerie and Amanda seemed to be of the opinion that sparse, scraggly blond hair was more favorable than soft, thick chestnut hair. Elizabette turned away. She was not in the mood to deal with Amanda.

Amanda was not about to be put off so easily. "I heard that Matron found someone in the forest," she told Elizabette smugly, smiling but with an odd look on her face. Malice, or greed? Elizabette was not certain.

Then she registered Amanda's words. "What?" she asked, her normally silvery voice hoarse with her pain.

"Ah, so she _is_ interested," Valerie stated with a condescending smile.

Amanda repeated her message. "Matron found someone in the forest."

A jolt struck Elizabette's mind. _Could it be Legolas? _ she wondered. "So?" she asked, keeping her voice even. She pulled a clean sweater over her head and reached for her hairbrush.

Amanda snatched it up before Elizabette's injured hand reached it.

"Don't you know someone in the forest?" she asked tauntingly. "Where've you been the past few days?"

"Reading," Elizabette replied untruthfully. "Did Matron find anyone?"

"Isn't that what I just said?" asked Amanda, disdainfully releasing the brush onto the floor. "She drove him away, I expect." She tossed her hair again and left with Valerie.

Annoyed and a little alarmed, Elizabette resumed dressing. She found it painful to hold her hairbrush in her injured hands so she left her hair as it was. Her tangled curls would be just one more thing for the others to tease about.

She tied a handkerchief over her hands as tightly as possible, though nothing stopped the bleeding.

Knowing that she was expected for breakfast, she rushed to the table. She had not eaten the night before but, though the meager portions normally did a little to stay her hunger, she found she could barely eat.

There was an hour before lessons began when the orphans could visit with friends or tidy their rooms. Elizabette slipped off to the old oak.

No one was there, but that could be expected. She had not asked Legolas to meet her and he would avoid the place otherwise, if there was a chance that he would be discovered.

She glanced around for any recent signs of life. Remembering that elves, light of foot, leave few marks, she did not expect to find any evidence.

Just as she had turned to leave, a piece of paper tucked into a crack in the massive oak caught her eye. She leapt neatly over a branch and slid it out.

A smooth, flowing script read:

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Dear Elizabette,

The woman who forced you to work has learned of me. I will avoid your house but I must give back your books. I will return at two o' clock today, hoping that you can be here.

Legolas Thranduilion

of Mirkwood

-

Elizabette frowned as she scanned the letter. So Amanda had been truthful. She would have to wait until the afternoon before she could ask the elf to re-bandage her hands.

She found a ball-point pen in her pocket and scrawled on the back of the letter,

-

Legolas. I received your letter and will try to be here, although Matron is watching me carefully. Please try to wait for me if I do not come on time, for I need your help.

Elizabette Allan

-

She slipped the letter back into the crack. She knew that Legolas would check to see if she had received it.

She glanced quickly around before leaving. She had caught a strange feeling in the air. The trees seemed uneasy; and the wind blew from the east. Elizabette frowned. The wind usually came from either the north or the west. An east wind warned of a storm.

Unsettled, she hurried back to her room. She would try to avoid Matron's, but she knew that she had to speak with Legolas.

Her hands still bled profusely and nothing that she could do would stop the flow of blood. Everyone had already heard that Matron had whipped her. Elizabette kept eluded them as much as possible.

---

The bell for break clanged brassily. Elizabette slipped back to her room and rewrapped her hands in her last clean handkerchiefs.

She walked quickly on silent feet to the outside door. She pushed it open warily, listening carefully. She heard no one and slipped out of the door.

She was almost to the forest's edge when an iron hand descended on her shoulder. She was turned roughly and stared into the angry red face of Matron.

"And where may you be going?" she asked with smile that was meant to be deceptively kind. Elizabette heard a malicious tint to the woman's voice, and did not reply.

"Answer me!" Matron shouted, her hand flying to her belt.

Elizabette fully expected her to pull out the whip, but instead, from a black leather sheath, Matron drew a knife with a curved red blade.

Elizabette could not hold back a squeak. This was too much. This was not happening.

"Speak!" demanded Matron, waving the blade in front of Elizabette's face. With her other hand she roughly tore the handkerchiefs off of Elizabette's hands.

"I- I was going into the woods!" she said desperately.

Matron set the blade to her throat. "Why?" she demanded.

This could not be true. This occurred only in books- in fiction. She was hallucinating. It was not happening.

But it was.

She refused to speak. What could she say?

"Speak!" Matron demanded, pressing the blade against Elizabette's throat. The cold red blade gleamed as its edge sank slightly into her skin.

The pain was excruciating. There was no mercy in Matron's eyes. She would kill Elizabette and have no regrets, no guilt.

Elizabette closed her eyes. She was going to die. It was impossible. But it was true.

"Speak!" Matron shouted. And just as Elizabette closed her eyes, preparing to die, Matron's knife jerked from her throat.

With a slight whistling sound, a gold- feathered arrow had flown through the air like a dart and struck Matron's hand. She sprang back with a cry, the knife slipping unheeded to the ground.

Elizabette took her chance and ran to the forest. Legolas stood just at the edge of the trees, standing alert with his bow in his hand. He lowered it as Elizabette approached.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

"No..." whispered Elizabette, sinking to her knees and leaning against a tree. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Though she was proud and did not wish to cry in front of Legolas, she could not force herself to stop. The shock overwhelmed her.

Legolas dropped to his knees beside her. "Elizabette," he said softly. "We must go further in so that I can look at your cuts. That woman might return and we can be spied from the house."

He offered her a hand to help her up but she did not take it. "Look at my hands," she whispered.

Legolas took one of her hands and cradled it on his own, examining it carefully. His eyes widened as he saw the gashes.

"Come, Elizabette," pleaded Legolas. "We must go further in."

Elizabette yielded and carefully got to her feet, wincing as the cut in her neck stung with the movement and the trickle of a salt tear. Legolas helped her to the old oak. He took out his herbs and bandages, setting them carefully on his leather pack to keep them clean.

The elf examined first the wound on her neck. It was not deep, nor was it very serious. He gently rubbed some salve into it.

Then he turned to her hands. These slashes were serious and he wondered how she could have gotten them.

As if she had read his mind, Elizabette explained softly, "Matron whipped me last evening for not being on time. I knew she would. Even if I _had_ been there at three o' clock, as ordered, she would have just thought of something else to hold against me." She paused for a moment, her shoulders slumping. "But she would have killed me. If you had not come I would be dead right now." The tears started again, each one crystalline clear and holding a world of sorrow and pain. "I never thought that anyone could be like that," she whispered, finishing her thought.

Then Legolas understood. She had never been in battle, she had never before met anyone who would take her life without mercy or regret. He had been in many battles and was more used to people like that. But the shock of this was new to Elizabette.

Legolas took one of her hands and laid it in his strong palm, setting the _olva envinya_ leaves on the cuts and binding the hand with white cloth. He did the same to the other. Then he whispered softly,

"Nai i Valar envinyalyë."

"Thank you, Legolas," said Elizabette gratefully. "You saved my life."

"It is nothing." The elf packed away his herbs.

"What did you just say?" asked Elizabette curiously.

"In Elvish? 'May the Valar heal you.' "

Elizabette smiled slightly. "What did you say yesterday? 'Ni áva hanya..."

" 'Ni áva hanya maens ná anwa'? 'I cannot understand how it is possible.' "

Elizabette glanced over at the books, which lay by the tree. "Did you read the books?"

"I did. They are surprisingly accurate."

"What about the appendices? Is the Elvish pronunciation correct?"

"Mostly. It is close enough."

"Legolas... Tolkien says that the Wood- elves speak Sindarin. Is that true? The Elvish you have been speaking sounds more like Quenya to me."

Legolas was impressed. "You are correct," he confirmed. "I have been speaking Quenya. We Wood- elves spoke Sindarin during the second and third ages but we have been speaking Quenya during this age- it has recurred among the few of us who are left."

Satisfied, Elizabette glanced down at her bandaged hands. Legolas caught the glance and asked,

"Did that woman take the bandages that I gave you yesterday?"

"She tore them off and threw them onto the floor."

The elf frowned in sympathy. "With what did she make these slashes?"

"A riding whip." Elizabette shuddered.

"I pity any horse that goes near her," Legolas muttered.

"What's a horse like?" Elizabette asked curiously. "I have never been near one."

Legolas repeated incredulously, "You have never been near a horse?"

Elizabette was a little hurt. "How could I? I have lived here almost all of my life."

Legolas' look softened. "I apologise. I was surprised. My horse's name is Silrocca, which in my language means 'swift silvery horse'." He sighed heavily. "She is beyond my contact here." The last words were spoken so quietly that Elizabette barely caught them.

Casting about for another subject, Elizabette inquired, "Do you want to read more of the books?"

The elf shook his head. "No, I am finished. As a matter of fact, Elizabette..." He paused and she glanced up.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not at all. I have discovered in my memory a way to Middle- Earth."

"That is good," Elizabette replied flatly. Her real thoughts were not betrayed by her simple words. _Now what will I do?_ she thought to herself. _Now Matron hates me with even more fervor, and she will think of any excuse to harm me... I have no friends..._

Legolas' keen blue glance caught her gray eyes. She felt that he knew or guessed what had run through her mind.

"Elizabette..." he said softly. "I want to ask you to come with me. I have witnessed the horrors the people here wreak on you, and I believe you have no reason to stay. What will you do? This woman that you call Matron will now take every chance to kill you. You cannot stay here safely."

Elizabette's eyes went wide and she did not speak. At first Legolas was afraid that he had hurt her, but his senses told him that she was merely surprised.

"But, Legolas..." she said after a moment. "This is my home. I don't belong in Middle- Earth. I would not fit in."

Legolas considered for a minute then asked, "Why were you crying the first day that I saw you?"

Elizabette looked down. She did not want to say it but when she looked up again Legolas was waiting.

"It doesn't matter," she muttered.

"But it does. Elizabette." He waited for her to look up.

She glanced at his blue eyes. He continued softly, "You can trust me."

Unwillingly, she told him, "The counselor shouted at me. It was unimportant- he didn't threaten me that time."

Legolas frowned. "Yes?"

"I ran into the woods and no one missed me." Sitting up and staring at him defiantly, she continued in a hard voice, "No one cares about me and I care about no one."

Watching her, Legolas silently marveled. She was fighting something. He wasn't sure what, but he knew that it was very strong.

Softly he whispered, "I care about you."

Elizabette's strong defiance vanished and she dissolved into tears. Legolas tried to comfort her but he knew not the reason for her tears.

When the tears subsided, he asked her what was wrong.

Elizabette looked up slowly. "D'you really want to know or are you just being polite?"

"I wish to know."

"All right," said Elizabette hesitantly. She began to speak of her childhood, what she could remember. She told him a little of the disease and described how her uncle had been the last.

"I was the only one to live," she said dully. "More than once I've wished I did not."

Cold anger of past hurts burned in her gray eyes. "I have long considered Matron a threat. She whipped me the day my uncle died, for crying." The anger faded, leaving only sadness. "I never forgot the pain..."

Legolas waited silently, saying nothing. After a moment she continued,

"And my trunk... My uncle sent it to me before he died. Matron locked it. I know not what it holds."

She looked away from Legolas, away from the orphanage, away from the world that she had known for ten years. Even as a child she had sensed the danger of that world, the coldness, the anger and hate. These merciless people would do anything for power, and the power that they got would to anything for them. _Power stolen will break you._ The phrase seemed to ring in her mind. The power had mastered them- making them more terrible then ever before.

Legolas watched her for a moment, then his gaze slipped inward. His mind unconsciously processed the information that he had gained. He had learned more than Elizabette had told him, his Elvish senses picking up the things that she implied or left open.

Suddenly he sat up. "The woman. Does she know what is in your trunk?"

"No. I am positive." Elizabette turned back to the elf, away from the clear world, new and unexplored. She faced the orphanage, ready and alert for any sign.

Legolas' gaze skimmed the trees. "There is one more thing that I desire to know. Have you been completely honest with me?"

"No."

He had thought not.

She continued after a moment. "I've told you no untruths, though I have left some things unsaid. No doubt you guessed some of these. But some of my memories I don't wish to speak of and some I can't. The pain is too great. Things that have lain hidden in my mind for years will not spring out for you when you desire it. Though I owe you my life and I think that I can trust you with it, some things are more important than my life, more beautiful and terrible at once, and I trust no one enough to speak of them." She half expected Legolas to be angry after that speech but she more expected that he would demand to hear the memories. She was surprised to see him smile, though the smile was tinged with sadness.

"Power lies within you, Elizabette," observed Legolas softly. "I will not press you to tell me if you wish not to. Yet I hope that someday you may trust someone enough to speak of these things."

Suddenly, the sun cut through the clouds in the overcast sky, sending shafts of sunlight down to the dark forest floor and dappling the leaves and moss with green shadows.

_Sun shines through the darkest cloud..._ Her uncle's words. Indeed he had been correct.

"What did you say?" asked Legolas.

Elizabette realized that she must have mouthed the words. "Sun shines through the darkest cloud," she replied softly. "Those were my uncle's words. And he is right. I will come to Middle- Earth. But first you must tell me how we would get there."

"At my birth," Legolas told her, "a nítir, a seer- woman, was present. She was a mortal but she spoke Elvish fluently. She spoke in Quenya, which was strange to us at the time. I have set her words into my memory and I will never forget them. Translated into Common Speech, she said, 'Prince, you will render a great service for the land of Mirkwood and your people. You will help to save the land from a great evil that presses it down.' " Legolas paused for a moment. "Then, she spoke a rhyme. 'Use this when you are in great need', she told me, 'but you will use it only once.' The rhyme was:

"'The sun will shine bright, the winds will blow chill

Remember in need, when things go amiss

To carry you home, on the wings of the wind

And the shafts of sunlight will bear you gently.' "

The elf paused. "She then spoke the words that would bring me home. No one present was able to remember them, and never before have I remembered them. But now I know them, so I know that now is the time to use them." He spoke for a moment in his language, remembering, then finished, "'Valar hortanin már'." Sensing Elizabette's unasked question, he translated, "Roughly, it means 'I am in need. I have strayed afar; and I must not stay. I have remembered, I will remember, now I remember. Valar, send me home'."

Elizabette was silent for a time. "Are you certain that you can bring me with you? Did she say that?"

"No, but I am certain that it will work." When she still looked skeptical, he added, "Trust me, Elizabette. I am certain."

She shrugged and turned away. "When do you wish to leave?" she asked hesitantly a minute later.

"When you are ready," he replied.

"Soon, then. Matron will notice my absence and attack if she locates me. She will be after me as soon as break is over," she pointed out.

"Break?"

"This time right now- it is break... We're allowed to do whatever we want."

Legolas smiled teasingly. "And does that include fighting with the Mistress?"

Elizabette's silvery laugh rang out. "No, I think not," she answered, smiling also. Her smile vanished as a thought came to her. "Legolas, I must bring my trunk. I can't leave it."

Legolas thought a moment. "I agree. You are quite right. I feel that it is important. We must find a way to get it."

"Can't I sneak out later with it? We could leave at night."

Legolas considered. "Yes. That will do well. For now, avoid her. If she attacks you-" he broke off and opened his pack, riffling through it until he found what he was looking for. "-Take this." He held up a long white knife in a brown leather sheath. Its straight blade gleamed in the light.

"I can't hurt her," whispered Elizabette, entranced and horrified at the sight of the weapon.

"She would hurt you." The elf sighed. "Do as you must. But keep the knife hidden and do not let her get it. It was gifted to me by my father."

Elizabette was honored that he trusted her to borrow it. She slid it into the deep pocket of her jeans, where it lay hidden. She smiled at Legolas. "Thank you for lending it to me."

"You are welcome. Now you must hurry. Be careful, and bring anything that you need or want. I am not certain where in Middle- Earth we will end up, so we may need to travel."

"Yes. I'll bring what I can."

She hurried off, golden brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. Legolas packed away his things and slipped the books into his bag. They could be useful, and his father would be interested. Slinging his pack and bow onto his back, he glanced around before leaping nimbly into the branches of the old oak. He hung the pack on a sturdy branch and readied his bow. He had a premonition that he might need it.

---

Matron was not at dinner that evening and Elizabette was relieved. Nevertheless, she was on her guard and kept Legolas' knife in her pocket.

She ate quickly and hurried to her room to gather her things before Valerie and Amanda returned. She was fortunate. She was able to pack a few things into her backpack before they returned. She pretended to be studying her mathematics book as they prepared for bed.

---

The sky slowly darkened. Legolas crouched tirelessly in the tree, his slender form blending with the tree in the dim light.

_Elizabette should return soon_, he thought. _I only hope that she can escape without notice_... He ran over the spell in his mind, then allowed himself to drift into a remembrance of his home.

---

It was dark. Valerie's even breathing filled the room and Amanda's snores cut through the quiet. Elizabette silently slipped out of bed and pulled her backpack onto her shoulder.

She carefully took hold of the handles of the trunk, and, glancing at the other two girls, crept out of the room and down the dark hallways. She tried not to make the slightest noise. Her whole body was tense and alert.

She made it to the doors without awakening anyone. She slipped down to the trees and ran light- footed to the old oak. _It seems almost too easy._

A suspicion entered her head as she saw no one. _Couldn't this be a huge lie?_ she wondered. But then Legolas whispered from above,

"Elizabette?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Do you have everything that you need?"

"Yes, I think-" Her eyes went wide as an image of the envelope and necklace sprang into her mind. "No! I have to go and get it!" She took off in the direction of the orphanage.

Legolas jumped down from the tree. "Elizabette, what?" he asked, but she was already gone.

---

Elizabette rushed back up the dark halls. When she reached her bedroom, to her relief, Valerie and Amanda were still fast asleep. She slowed her hurried pace and crept past their beds to her own. She stepped quickly over to where her trunk had stood and reached down for the envelope. She knew exactly where it was. Or should be.

It was gone.

---

Legolas pulled Elizabette's pack and the trunk up into the tree with his own. He was surprised at the weight of the trunk. As he settled back against the tree, hidden in the leafy branches, he again readied his bow. Things were not going well and he had a bad feeling that when Elizabette returned, the woman Matron would be at her heels. He touched the rough bark of the tree gently, feeling safe and at home. He could understand why Elizabette had fled to this tree. Its ancient knowledge calmed him as it often calmed her.

His thoughts drifted to his homeland. He could still remember Mirkwood when it had been fair and clean, but dark creatures had come and there was danger everywhere. They kept away from the palace, most of the time, but sometimes they came even up to the gates.

The dark sometimes depressed him. The trees were thinner around the palace, and there was much more light, but out in the forest everything was dim and gloomy. Whenever he left Mirkwood, he was amazed at the amount of light and warmth that did not exist in the forest. Even the trees seemed dull and depressed. They could no longer feel the wind and the thick underbrush choked their trunks and lower branches.

He glanced around the oak forest. The trees here were nice, but he hated the air that was laden with fumes and pollution.

He had liked Fangorn Forest, and had wondered more than once why no elves lived in it. The trees seemed happier and the Ents walked. Legolas enjoyed speaking to the Ents; they made him feel young again, for they were far older than he.

---

Elizabette glanced around frantically, panicked thoughts rushing through her mind. _Matron has not been here, has she? She can not have been. The whole orphanage would be in chaos if they knew that I was gone._ Suddenly, slicing through her frenzied thoughts, came a clear image of the envelope lying under her pillow.

Elizabette lifted her pillow. Of course, there it was. Now she remembered putting it there several days before.

She checked that the necklace was inside and slipped the envelope into her pocket. She gripped the handle of Legolas' knife and hurried back down the dim chill hallways.

The dreary stone halls seemed endless. Her light feet made no sound on the dusty floors and she made it to the doors without incident. Then, disaster struck.

---

Legolas' keen ears caught the soft sound of the orphanage door opening and closing. Then he heard a gasp. He assumed that Matron had been lying in wait for Elizabette by the heavy oak doors. He dropped lightly to the ground, running on silent feet to the forest's edge. Leaping into the sturdy branches of a tree, he crouched, bow ready, an arrow in his hand, listening for any sounds.

---

Matron stepped out from the shadows. She held her curved red blade ready in her hand. Elizabette could not help but gasp as she clumsily drew Legolas' white knife.

"I shall kill you now, my girl, and there is nothing that you can do about it," Matron whispered vengefully. "I do not know where that arrow came from but now you will pay for it and more."

_More? What have I done to you?_ thought Elizabette. She glanced down at the sharp edge of the knife. Now she would have to fight.

_If this woman had any sense,_ she thought irrelevantly, _She would torture information out of me instead of killing me._ But Matron was crazy and cared only to spill her blood.

Matron was about to slash Elizabette's throat when she brought up the white knife. Elizabette blocked the blow and pulled the knife away, feinting for Matron's head but then changing her angle and going for her arm. Matron did not expect this from an orphan and she reacted slowly. The white blade pierced her hand and she gave a great shout.

Matron again lifted her knife, but Elizabette brought up Legolas' knife and slashed the white blade against the red. The red knife was strong but no match for Legolas' white elf- blade. The white knife cut cleanly through the red blade and Matron's hand fell to her side, still holding the severed blade.

"But you are just a child... How could you have beaten me?"

Elizabette did not reply. In her roil of emotion, she could feel the power rising within her and she mentally seized it, twisting it into a knot so that it could not slip away.

"Go," she whispered fiercely, "or I will hurt you."

Matron did not move. Elizabette allowed the knot of power to loosen slightly, and the blade blazed with white fire. "Go," she repeated, "or I will hurt you." She brought the knife up and the blade gleamed, shining like a beacon in the darkness. Matron suddenly let out a yelp and took off toward the doors. Relieved, Elizabette allowed her power to escape and the knife stopped blazing. She ran to the forest, leaping over the branches that lay in her path. Legolas jumped down from the tree behind her, following the path to the old oak.

"Legolas!" she called softly. She stiffened with fury when there was no answer. Then, softly from behind her, he whispered, "I am here." He climbed into the tree, then jumped down with the trunk and the packs.

"Are you all right?" The white knife glowed in the moonlight.

"Yes," she replied. "But we must go. Matron will come after me soon."

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you when we're away from here. When we are safe."

Legolas shrugged and handed Elizabette her pack. She sheathed the knife and held it out.

"No, you hold it. I will need to concentrate," the elf told her. He shouldered his pack. "I will need to touch everything that I wish to bring with me... Otherwise it will not come. I also need to think of everything in my mind..." He spoke half to himself. He glanced around at Elizabette. "What did you go back for?"

"A letter from my uncle... And a necklace."

"Make sure that you have them."

Elizabette slipped her hand into her pocket. "I have them."

The elf held out his hand. "Take my hand. If we are not touching, you will get left behind."

Elizabette hesitated, glancing at her bandaged hands. They did not hurt much, but they were not healed.

"Be careful," she told him, taking his hand. She picked up her trunk with her other.

The elf took a deep breath and stood still. He thought carefully of the words, then summoned to mind pictures of everything that he wished to bring with him. Holding all of the images in his mind, he spoke the words, ending with,

"Valar, hortanin már!"

For a moment nothing happened. Then, with a horrifying jolt, Elizabette's hand was yanked from Legolas' grasp and they fell into endless blackness.

Legolas tried to catch Elizabette's hand, tried to call out, tried to listen for a call from her but he could not make his body move and the rushing in his ears drowned out all other noises. The wind howled, and the impenetrable blackness closed in on all sides.

-

**First cliffie, hmm? What do you think? There was a lot of switching back and forth in this chapter... I don't know about that. Review, please!**


	4. Identity Unveiled

**Chapter four is here! (_Everyone cheers)_ Thank you, thank you. Review responses are at the bottom. **

-

**Chapter 4: Identity Unveiled**

-

Finally Legolas felt himself fall onto leaves. For a moment, he stayed, facedown on a forest floor. Then with an effort, he rolled over and sat up.

Relief washed over him so quickly that it was almost painful. He had landed near the gates of the palace of Mirkwood. his beloved home. His bow lay nearby and his pack was next to him. But where was Elizabette?

---

"Legolas?" called Elizabette, unsure of where she was. The forest was different, that was certain. Legolas stood quickly and ran toward her voice with a light, easy stride.

"Legolas? Is that you?" Elizabette looked at the elf running toward her. He looked different. Older, slightly, and his hair was longer. She knew him, though, by his eyes.

"Elizabette?" Legolas slowed. The elf in front of him was different. Older. Her curly golden brown hair reached to her waist, and she was taller, older. However, her hands were bandaged and her clear gray eyes were those of Elizabette.

"Yes. You look different."

Legolas touched his hair. It was again the length that it had been when he had left Middle- Earth. "I expected this," he remarked. "It is interesting, nonetheless. Look at hair, your height. You are an elf."

Elizabette examined the length of her hair and looked around in bewilderment. She gasped. Wh-what!"

"You always were." Legolas sat near her.

She glanced up, surprised. "How do you know?"

"Humans do not walk lightly as you do. All elves are silent and light of foot. And your sharp senses are Elven- senses."

"Did you know all along?"

"I suspected it but did not know for certain until this afternoon. Your world hides true identities." He turned toward the gates. "Those are the palace gates. We should go to see my father."

"Are we in Mirkwood then?"

"Yes."

Elizabette held out the white knife. "Here's your knife."

Legolas tucked it into his pack. "Come, then. Let us go."

"Wait, Legolas. Won't your father think I'm very strange? My clothes are different and my name is wrong."

"We can find you some other clothes," the elf told her. "But you may be correct about the name." He paused, thinking. "May I see the letter?" he asked after a moment.

Elizabette slid it out of her pocket and handed it to him. He skimmed it, reading her father's words carefully.

Then she drew out the necklace. He gasped.

"Elizabette, this is the Star of Eärendil! This symbol is worn by the house of Elrond Half- Elven."

Elizabette jumped up. "What? How did _I_ get it? I thought that it was just a piece of silver!"

"No. This is mithril, truesilver, from the Mines of Moria, wrought into the symbol of Eärendil."

Elizabette took it from him carefully. "Is the chain of mithril also?" she asked.

"Yes. I know not where it may have come from. I will ask my father.

"Eärendil took a silmaril and sailed up into the sky as punishment for going to Valinor," he said thoughtfully. He was silent for a few minutes. Then he said, "If you want an Elvish name you could call yourself Elénwen. It is similar to your name and sounds nice."

"What does it mean?"

"Star- maiden."

Elizabette smiled. "I like it," she replied.

"Take off your bandages for a moment," Legolas requested.

Elizabette took them off as asked and was amazed to see that the slashes from the whip were merely red marks across her palms. "Where did they go? How did they heal so quickly?"

Legolas seemed amused at her astonishment. "A combination of the powers of the plant _olva envinya_ and your own elf powers."

"Elf powers?"

"Did you not know? Elves heal more quickly than mortal folk."

"I am an elf then..." She looked up at him.

"Yes."

"That is amazing."

"The cut on your neck is invisible now. Come, Elénwen, let us go to see my father."

"Call me Elizabette," she requested. "Please."

"Why? I thought that you approved of the name."

"I do. I'm just not used to it yet. Call me Elizabette."

"Very well. We had better go at once to see my father. Be warned; he is stern and may seem unwelcoming at first."

Elizabette tucked the bandages from her hands into her pack. She slipped the necklace and her uncle's letter into her pocket.

Legolas led the way to the gates. He knocked lightly.

"Ma oatnë símen?" 1 An Elven voice asked.

"Nin, Legolas. Pelin." 2

A small door in the side of the gates opened and an elf looked out.

"Legolas!" he exclaimed. He added in the Common Tongue, "We thought that you had been lost." Looking over his shoulder, he called, "Latya i andor!" 3

As Legolas and Elizabette stepped through, several elves sent puzzled glances toward them. Where had Legolas been? And where did this beautiful elf- maiden come from?

The guard who had spoken to Legolas led them to the throne room. "The king believes that you are dead, sir. He will be quite surprised."

"Ai, do not call me 'sir', Duinral," requested Legolas with a smile. "You know that I do not like it."

Duinral shrugged. "King Thranduil wishes that we use formal terms of respect, Legolas."

Legolas' smile faded. "Has my father been worried about me?"

"In his own way, yes, Your Highness. You know what he is like."

Legolas sighed. "Yes, I know."

Elizabette walked slightly behind, feeling left out. She was nervous about meeting the king. No doubt he would think her strange because of her clothing and her complete lack of knowledge of the Quenya language. She hoped that Legolas would help her if King Thranduil decided to have her thrown out.

When they reached the throne room, Duinral slipped through the door and addressed the king in a low voice. He came out and bowed to Elizabette and Legolas. "He wishes to see you."

Legolas eagerly opened the door. "Ai! Atar!" 4 he cried as he saw the king.

King Thranduil sat up straight as Legolas came forward. Elizabette followed slowly and warily.

"Onya, cenilmë tye qualin." 5 In the Common Tongue, he added, "Where have you been? We have not heard any news of you for nearly a year."

"I have been long away and I have seen many strange things." At the king's gesture, Legolas stood from his polite kneel. He proceeded to relate in his own language the story that he had told Elizabette. Elizabette, bored with the speech that she could not understand, sighed. Her thoughts drifted away from Legolas and the king and she glanced around the room.

There was one other elf in the room. He sat at a neat desk made of dark wood. He read a scroll of parchment, written in an elegant script similar to Legolas'.

"Elizabette!" hissed Legolas. Startled, her attention snapped back to the king. He was watching her.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Elénwen."

Legolas nudged her. "What?" she snapped at him. He raised his eyebrows and nodded toward the king. Elizabette shrugged and turned away.

"Where do you come from?" asked the king.

"Another world. My Lord," she added quickly as the king frowned.

"Why did you come to Middle- Earth?"

Elizabette did not know what to say. Legolas stepped forward. "I asked her to come, Atar. As I just told you."

"Have you no family?" This was again to Elizabette.

"None at all, My Lord."

"Who is this evil woman that my son tells me of?"

"She is the leader of the orphanage, My Lord. We called her Matron."

"Legolas told me that your uncle gave you a trunk. Who was your uncle and what does the trunk contain?"

Elizabette glared resentfully at Legolas. Why had he told the king that?

The king frowned. "Answer me!"

"It is locked, My Lord. I know not what it contains."

The king looked at Legolas. "You may go, Legolas. I will send for you later."

Legolas bowed to his father. "Tancavë, Atar." 6 He left.

---

When the king finally allowed her to leave, Elizabette was led to a bedroom. She was quite irritated and almost wished that she had never seen Legolas.

She took the Star of Eärendil out of her pocket. It glowed with power.

_So it is made of mithril. It is amazing that it came to me. Does it originally come from Middle- Earth?_ Elizabette was unable to answer her question.

_Actually,_ she thought, _If I am an elf, one of my parents must have been an elf also... Unless I am only an elf when I am in Middle- Earth..._ But Legolas had told her that she had always been an elf... _He could have been lying, but why?_

A knock on the door cut through her musings.

"Are you in there, Elizabette?" It was Legolas.

"Yes, Your Highness," muttered Elizabette. She was feeling resentful toward him.

Legolas opened the door. "What is wrong?" he asked.

"Go away, Your Highness."

"Elizabette?"

"I said, go away, Your Highness."

Legolas came over to her. He was carrying the Lord of the Rings trilogy. He set it onto the table. "Elizabette, what is wrong?"

"Everything, Your Highness." She injected biting sarcasm into the terms of respect. Legolas could not miss it.

He did not. "Do not call me that."

Elizabette said nothing.

"Ai!" Legolas waved his hand. "Elizabette!"

"Go away. I should have stayed home. You elves are all the same."

"You are an elf also."

"I wish, then, that I was not."

Legolas sighed. "Have you opened your trunk?"

"No. How can I? It is locked. Legolas, please go away. I am tired. I will speak with you in the morning."

Legolas left and Elizabette slept.

---

In his own room, Legolas pondered what the king had told him.

During his absence, ten more elves had died. The symptoms were always the same. The elves had a high fever, weakness, and dizziness. A severe cough, usually bringing up blood, frequently appeared during their last few days of life. Less than a fortnight after the symptoms appeared, they died.

Four elves were sick at present. No one knew how to save them. No herbs worked. If they knew what caused the disease, they would have a better chance of curing it.

Elizabette was angry at him, that was certain. Legolas guessed that she had not wanted his father to know about the trunk. But how else could he explain things?

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**Chibi Chingo: Yeah,grins, I am aware that my story is very cliché, but I think that it is really difficult to write a LOTR fanfic that isn't. There are just too many to write something original. Also, I happen to like that character:) I'm weird, I know. She happens to be something I imagined when I was about five. **

**Virtual cookies will now appear in front of you. You may take one of any kind you like:) Thanks!**

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**Navaer Lalaith: 1. I believe I mentioned that the dialogue in my story is Quenyan, not Sindarin. I explained that the reason for this is that I could not find a good Sindarin dictionary. This was all in the disclaimer- you might want to read it sometime:) I already have a large part of this story written and I don't think I really want to change it now. Also, Legolas gives Elizabette an explanation for the Quenyan... I think I already posted that part. Yes, I did- it's in Chapter 3. Sorry if it bothers you. **

**Another reason I'm not interested in authenticating my elvish is it's a lot of work and it doesn't really bother me. This is the only story I'm going to post on because I'm writing original work now. **

**The article was interesting- I wasn't aware of many of the points brought up. I did change Legolas' title and several 'Lady' s. I'm going to ignore most of the other occurances of 'Lord' and 'Lady' because when I imagined Legolas and my other characters I imagined them being like that. **

**2. Thank you for pointing out the name mistake- I guess when I read the books I just read it wrong. You mentioned that I spelled _a few of them wrong._ Does a few mean one?**

**3. I was under the impression that blonde referred to a person who had light-colored hair: he is a blonde. She is blonde. Blond referred to the actual hair: blond hair. I guess I'll take your word for it, since now that I think about it, my explanation doesn't make much sense:) Thanks. **

**4. The reason Elizabette and Legolas can understand each other is that Legolas, as we know from the Ring Quest, speaks the Common Tongue, the speech that all races of Middle- Earth understand. I thought I'd written this in somewhere, but I guess I didn't. I thought about it. Anyway, when Legolas is in our world, his Common Tongue translates to be similar enough to English that they can understand each other. Later, as you'll see, Elizabette's English translates to Common Speech in Middle Earth so that she can be understood. I guess I should make that clear. **

**5. I, as I already said, am very aware that Quenya isn't the language that the Elves speak. Legolas gives Elizabette an explanation for this in the third chapter. **

**6. I am quite aware that my story is a Mary-Sue. It doesn't bother me too much that it's cliché. I think it's pretty hard to write a LOTR fanfic that isn't, simply because there are so many other stories. If you have any ideas for me to add to my story, I'd welcome them. **

**7. Finally, thank you very much for really being the first person to give me constructive criticism. Though the usual 'this is great, keep going' makes me feel good, it doesn't really help me write better. You get two cookies. I really appreciate it and would like to hear more from you. Thanks!**

**Out of curiosity, what does your penname mean?**

**qwen: Thank you! I love you forever. (Yeah, I definitely like cliffies, too.) You get cookies! **

**I know I should really go over this chapter, but I really can't be bothered. It still reflects my writing style from seventh grade... which definitely isn't a good thing :)**

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**Please review. Thanks!**


	5. Súláríl

**This. Seriously. Sucks. **

**I just realized :) that I happened to delete my newest copy of all of the chapters. Congratulations to myself. I've got to see if I can dig it out... I wanted to be good since I've finally gotten off my ass and updated... so I was going to put out two chapters... grrrrrrrr...**

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**Ohh! Who's good! (I happened to have it on an old disk... hehe...) So here's the chapter. Two in one day, aren't I good?**

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**Note: I love every single one of those of you who put me on alerts and favorites. Although- I noticed that approximately half of you have never reviewed- please do. **

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**Chapter 5: Súláríl**

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When morning came, Elizabette was well rested and felt much better. Legolas appeared to show her the way to the dining hall.

"Elizabette," he said, "I know you did not want me to speak of your trunk to my father. But what else could I have told him?"

Elizabette shrugged her shoulders. "I was not angry because you told him about the trunk as much as I was angry that you told him about my family."

"Why should I have not told him about your family?"

"I feel that it is my business, not his." She turned away, closing the subject.

"Do you know what causes the disease?" he asked.

"No. But I am certain that it is the same disease that killed my family."

"Exactly." Legolas stopped walking and faced her. "The strange thing about this disease, Elizabette, is that it harms elves only. Mortals are not affected."

"Are you certain? Perhaps it has not spread the the areas where the humans live yet."

"No. It has spread everywhere. But, Elizabette, you are not understanding. Listen to what I say. The disease harms elves only. Humans are not affected."

Elizabette frowned. She did not comprehend. Then she understood, and her eyes widened.

"It harms elves only..." she echoed. "My family must have been elves."

"Yes. Either there are elves in your world, or your family comes originally from Middle- Earth."

He resumed walking. Elizabette took the Star of Eärendil out of her pocket. "Where do you think that this came from?"

"That I do not know. If you give me your leave, I will ask my father."

"All right... I suppose." She paused. "Legolas, I apologize for the way I acted last night. I should not have been so rude. The king made me irritated."

"It is all right. Perhaps I should not have told my father about your family before asking you."

Elizabette shrugged. "It does not really matter."

They reached the dining hall. The king gestured them to seats at the high table. The lower tables were still and empty. The silence and absence of elves made Elizabette shiver. She hung back slightly.

"Come, Elizabette," Legolas told her.

Halfway through breakfast, Legolas told the king what he and Elizabette had worked out. Thranduil was surprised but had to agree that they were correct. Legolas told him about the star necklace and the king asked to see it.

Elizabette drew it out and handed it to him. The king agreed that it was wrought of mithril.

"An exquisite piece," he told Elizabette. "Power runs through it." He added to his son in Elvish as they finished the meal, "Tanaroccor ana Heri Elénwen." _(Show the horses to Lady Elizabette.)_

"Tancavë, Atar. Manen Silrocca?" _(Yes, Father. How is Silrocca?)_

The king smiled. "Oatë cenonya!" _(Go see, my son!)_

Elizabette sent Legolas a puzzled glance but he raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

When they had finished, Elizabette and Legolas left together.

"What were you saying?" asked Elizabette of the elf.

"My father asked me to show you our horses. I asked after my horse, Silrocca."

They walked in silence for a few moments, then Legolas told Elizabette, "My father suggests that you wear clothes that are more... usual in Middle- Earth. I believe that some were placed in your bedchamber." He left her outside her bedchamber and proceeded to his own.

Elizabette opened the door of her wardrobe and gasped. Five or so dresses hung there, all in about her size. The one in front was plain and serviceable, navy blue cotton or something similar, with a wide skirt that would be easy to walk in.

The others, however, were anything but plain. The one behind the navy one was of a deep crimson velvet with gold threads sewn in as decoration. Another was of sky- blue silk, with delicate lace cuffs and collar and a gathered skirt.

The nicest by far was of rich purple velvet, with tiny jewels set at the neckline. The skirt was full and fell almost to Elizabette's ankles when she held it up.

_They are beautiful,_ thought Elizabette. _But I would not look right in them. I am only an orphan. _She chose the navy blue cotton dress and slipped it on, surveying herself in the mirror. There were several pairs of shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe. Remembering that Legolas intended to bring her to the stables, Elizabette selected a pair of ankle boots made of supple black leather.

Elizabette's hands were completely healed from Matron's whipping. She smiled. She had not meant it the night before when she had wished that she was not an elf. She was glad she was an elf, the healing powers the least of her reasons.

Elizabette tucked the necklace into her pocket. She had never put it on but felt that it was safer when she had it with her.

Legolas knocked lightly on the door. "Are you ready, Elizabette?"

She opened the door and slipped out.

"Hello. You look nice," he added, smiling. He started to walk.

"Thank you," replied Elizabette, smiling back. She noticed that Legolas carried her bow and quiver and wore his white knife. "Why do you carry weapons?"

The elf's smile faded slightly. "Mirkwood is far from safe," he replied somewhat sadly. "It is best to be prepared."

"Surely it is safe near the palace?" Elizabette asked.

"Near the palace, yes. But we are not staying near the palace. Seeing that you are presumably going to stay here, for a time, at any rate, my father thinks that it is necessary that you learn to ride a horse. I will teach you to ride."

"A horse? I do not know..."

"Come on, Elizabette. How bad can it be?" he asked with a teasing grin.

"We will see," replied Elizabette, laughing. "But you might be disappointed."

Legolas laughed also. A few elves near the stables heard his laugh and glanced around. How long had it been since they had last heard their prince laugh? Many of his friends had passed to the Grey Havens, and his close friends Orodír and Calënil had both died from the disease.

Legolas led Elizabette to a large stall where a silvery white mare stood, facing the back wall, with a dejected expression.

"Silrocca!" he called softly. "Manen nar tye?" _(How are you?)_

The mare's head shot up and she came over to the elf, nickering. She rubbed her face against his hands.

"Yes, my friend," Legolas said softly to Silrocca, "I have returned."

Elizabette hung back. There were other horses in stalls around her, but it seemed to her that Silrocca was the most elegant. She noted curiously that the elf's face was oddly blank, although his hands rubbed Silrocca's face joyously.

"You can touch her," Legolas suggested over his shoulder to Elizabette. She approached hesitantly. Silrocca's intelligent gaze shifted to her. Elizabette held out a hand to the mare. Silrocca sniffed it and then nodded her head down, offering her forehead to Elizabette.

"She accepts you. You can pat her." Legolas was watching closely.

Elizabette tentatively rubbed Silrocca's forehead. The mare watched her, then shifted her gaze back to Legolas as Elizabette stepped back.

Legolas opened the stall door. Elizabette jumped out of the way as Silrocca stepped out, elegant head held high. The will of the elf tugged her mind and she followed him.

"Now, a horse for you." Legolas considered a moment before leading Elizabette and Silrocca down a narrower aisle. At the very end he stopped.

Elizabette noticed that this stall had a higher door than most of the others.

"This horse has no name," Legolas told Elizabette. "No one has yet been able to harness the fire within him. You may ride him."

Elizabette peered into the stall. Inside stood a reddish chestnut. His face was dished and his ears delicate with fluted tips. He had a white spot on his forehead and a white sock on his off hind foot, but otherwise his coat was pure reddish- brown, with gold glints where the sunlight struck him.

Elizabette noticed that he watched her warily. Legolas slid the door open and the horse stepped out. Elizabette held out her hand, expecting him to sniff it. Instead, he bared his teeth and snapped at her. She jerked her hand back.

Silrocca stepped forward, nudging the chestnut with her gray nose. He calmed, accepting her touch.

Elizabette again offered her hand. This time, he sniffed it, but when she tried to touch him, he shied away.

"What is wrong with him?" she asked Legolas.

"His fiery spirit serves no one. He will work in partnership with someone, if he trusts them... but he trusts no one. He has become afraid."

"You expect me to ride him?"

"Yes. You can do it."

"Can someone else not ride him?"

"He trusts no one else."

"He does not trust me!"

"Not yet. He will. No one can ride him."

"Why not?" She again offered a hand to the chestnut. He sniffed it and backed away.

"If you must know..." Legolas nodded to Silrocca and she gave the chestnut a nudge, urging him to follow the elf. Elizabette walked behind Silrocca, wary of her hooves.

When they reached the open air, Legolas turned, and, in one swift motion, sprang lightly onto the chestnut's back. He sat astride, gripping with his knees.

"Watch," he called to Elizabette.

The chestnut seemed surprised for a moment, then in a split second he reacted. He threw himself up into a rear, then landed on his forefeet with a sudden jolt that would unseat anyone but Legolas. The elf stayed on his back. When the horse reared so high that Elizabette thought that he would topple over, Legolas jumped off, landing easily on his feet. The chestnut shied away from him. Silrocca again touched him with her nose, calming him.

"That is what he does to everyone," Legolas told Elizabette.

"How can I ride him, then?" she asked.

"You must get him to trust you. Say, 'ni ávan hastatye' to him."

"Ni ávan hastatye," Elizabette repeated, looking at the chestnut. His attention shifted to her from Silrocca.

"It means, 'I will not harm you.' Now concentrate on those words, in Elvish or Common Speech, and direct them towards the horse."

Frowning, Elizabette did as he told her. _I will not harm you,"_ she thought over and over. _I will not harm you... I will not harm you... I will not harm you... _Suddenly, the words were gently shifted aside and into her mind came the words, _I know._

_"_What?" gasped Elizabette aloud. The chestnut watched her, but the fear was gone from his eye.

_I know you will not,_ the voice repeated. _I trust you now_.

"Wha-a-t?" Elizabette's eyes strayed to the horse. Then she knew. The fear in his eyes was replaced by trust. He had spoken in her mind.

"You felt it, Elizabette?" asked Legolas.

"What happened?" she replied.

"Elves are joined with their horses by mind contact. The horses can see only into the mind of their own elf friend. It is how we communicate."

"How old is he?" asked Elizabette. The chestnut seemed fairly young to her.

_I am two years of age_, he said into her mind as Legolas replied aloud, "He reached his second year a few months ago. Silrocca is his mother."

Now that she knew, Elizabette could see the similarities. They had the same dished face, the same ears...

In her mind, she asked, _Have you a name?_

_No. That is at your discretion_.

Aloud, glancing at Legolas, she asked, "When we were in my world, you told me about Silrocca. You said, 'She is beyond my contact here.' Did you mean that you could not contact her in your thoughts?"

"Yes. Some barrier divides the worlds, and her mind could not reach mine. As soon as we landed in Mirkwood, she felt my thoughts and I greeted her."

Elizabette considered. "What about him?" She gestured toward the chestnut. "Why does no one speak in his mind and tell him that they will not harm him?"

Legolas rubbed Silrocca's silvery neck. "The horse has to make the first contact, to bridge the minds. After that, you will be able to contact him and he you."

Elizabette frowned. "Can he not hear when someone speaks aloud to him then?"

"He can hear you but he cannot respond verbally. That is why we use _ósanwë-centa_, mind- contact." After a moment, he added, "My father asked me to show him to you. He thought that you might be able to win his trust. He is yours now."

_I am not 'yours' any more than you are 'mine', _the horse complained good-naturedly into her mind.

Elizabette walked over to the horse. He lowered his head and she touched the white spot between his eyes. His mane and tail were lighter than his body color, but they also had the touch of gold.

"Let us go," said Legolas.

Elizabette rubbed the horse's forehead gently. He suddenly seemed very tall. She was not entirely certain that she wanted to be up that high.

"He is so tall," she said to the elf.

"He is only fifteen hands," replied Legolas. "Silrocca is nearly sixteen."

Elizabette glanced at Silrocca. She was indeed taller, but even the chestnut seemed too tall.

"Do you not use saddles?"

Legolas laughed. "Saddles?" he replied. "Those leathern seats that Men put on their horses? We elves do not use them. As we can communicate directly with our horses, we need no crude methods of substitution."

Elizabette shrugged. "How do I get up?"

"I shall not help you," replied the elf. "You will need to be able to mount on your own. You will have to sit sidesaddle with the dress. Be careful; and do not land hard on his back, he will not like that." He came around to Silrocca's side. "Watch now." He sprang lightly from the ground and landed sidesaddle on her back. He swung one leg over to her other side and patted her neck. She turned to face Elizabette and the chestnut.

Elizabette did not think for a moment that she would be able to do it, but she copied his movements and was surprised to find herself on the chestnut's back.

_Be careful with me,_ she requested lightly of her horse. _I have never done this before._

_Neither have I,_ he replied truthfully in her mind.

Elizabette laughed, patting his shoulder.

Silrocca and Legolas stepped over to them. "We will try a walk first," Legolas told Elizabette. His expression blanked briefly and Elizabette knew that he was asking Silrocca to walk with his mind.

_Shall we walk?_ she asked the chestnut. He responded by breaking into a springy, energy- filled walk.

Elizabette froze on his back, one hand clenched in his mane, the other on his hindquarters. _Relax,_ the horse said.

After a moment she caught her balance and began to settle with the movement, enjoying herself. Legolas and Silrocca led the way down the path.

_This is fun,_ she thought to the chestnut.

_Yes,_ he replied. _It is a nice change from bucking and rearing._

_Why did you buck?_

_I trusted no one._

_Why do you trust me?_

_You trust me. _The chestnut tossed his mane and looked around at the dim trees.

_Mirkwood is indeed a gloomy place,_ Elizabette remarked after a moment.

_Yes. My mother tells me that we horses used to be allowed to roam free, awaiting the mind- call of our elf friends. Now there are too many dangers._

_Do you trust Legolas?_

_More than most people. Not enough to allow him to ride me. _

_Does it hurt you when I sit on your back?_

_No, not at all. My back is strong, and you are light. _He sped up a little so that they were just behind Silrocca and Legolas.

Legolas glanced back at Elizabette. "Do you want to trot?" he asked.

_What is trot? _ she asked the chestnut in her mind.

_A faster pace than the walk,_ came the answer. _I shall warn you, it is a little bouncy for you._

_Shall we?_

_Yes, why not?_

Elizabette withdrew and glanced at Legolas. "All right... I guess."

The chestnut broke into a faster pace. It was indeed bouncy.

Legolas looked back. "Are you enjoying it?" he called.

Elizabette felt that she would bounce right off of the horse's back. She was certain that the elf could see her discomfort.

"Relax," he called back. He was sitting easily with the movement, his lithe body absorbing the bounces. "You are tense. Relax with his stride."

Elizabette tried to relax but could not. _Can you go a bit more slowly?_ she asked the chestnut. Immediately he slowed to a smoother trot. She was able to settle to that.

At their faster pace, Legolas and Silrocca drew ahead.

_Shall we catch them up?_ asked the chestnut a little mischievously.

_What are you going to do?_

_I will canter. Hold onto my mane, I spring into it and you do not want to fall off. It is my favorite pace._

_All right. Let's do it, _Elizabette agreed enthusiastically.

The chestnut bounded forward. Elizabette gripped his mane tightly until she got the feel of the motion.

They passed Legolas. "Hello!" called Elizabette, smiling.

Silrocca also leapt forward into the canter. The chestnut rounded his back and slipped down into a rocking canter, allowing them to get ahead, then flattened out and raced them, catching up. The two horses ran neck to neck, but neither was able to gain an advantage. Both Legolas and Elizabette were laughing.

_I will gallop,_ warned the chestnut. _Hold on!_

Elizabette held his mane as he switched into a four- beat gallop. A moment later, Silrocca also accelerated up into the gallop. She and the elf caught up but again neither could pull ahead. Elizabette was thrilled with the exhilarating motion.

Suddenly, the chestnut's ears flicked forward and Elizabette glanced ahead. Over the thundering hoof beats of Silrocca and the chestnut, she could hear the slower pace of a trotting horse. She squinted forward into the dim trees. There were two horses, trotting at a matched pace.

Silrocca and the chestnut slowed to a canter, then to a trot. The other riders were two male elves, both on bay horses.

They turned and stopped, nodding to Elizabette and Legolas.

Elizabette recognized one of the men, Duinral, the palace guard. Legolas confirmed this by saying,

"Aiya, _(Hail)_ Duinral and Ryncäl. It is your day off?"

"It is, Legolas."

Elizabette caught their puzzled glances. _What is wrong with these elves? _she thought. _Am I that strange?_

In truth, the two elves were merely pleased to see the elf laughing. He had not laughed much since the war. Of course, he laughed when there was something to be amused at, but neither of the guards had seen Legolas race anyone for an age, at least. _This lady must be a very good rider, _thought Duinral, for it was well recognized that the elf was one of the best riders in the realm. Yet they had been racing neck to neck.

Ryncäl gasped as he recognized Elizabette's horse. "Is that the untamable chestnut?" he asked.

The chestnut listened. _I am not untamable!_ he protested.

Elizabette laughed, replying, _To them, you may seem untamable._

"Yes, that is him," Legolas answered Ryncäl.

"Lady Elénwen was almost beating you," Duinral teased the elf gently.

"Yes," replied Legolas, smiling, "Silrocca and the chestnut are a close match."

In her thoughts, Elizabette asked the chestnut, _Can you hear other people's thoughts as well as mine?_

_No. I can hear only yours._

_Do you know who I am?_

_You come from another world, where you had no family. An evil woman tried to kill you, so you fled to Middle- Earth when Legolas asked you to come. You own a locked trunk and you know not what it contains. You resented the fact that King Thranduil knows of your family. You have a symbol of the House of Elrond, and you know not where it came from._

Elizabette was surprised. _Did you read my memory?_

_Yes. You also supplied me with thoughts as I spoke._

_I did?_

"Elizabette!" Legolas' hissing whisper cut off the chestnut's reply.

Elizabette snapped back to the outside world. The guards were trotting off down a side path and Legolas asked,

"Would you care to canter again?"

_Shall we?_ Elizabette asked the chestnut.

_Certainly._

Elizabette nodded to Legolas and both horses broke into a canter. This time, however, Elizabette felt a different in the pace; the chestnut's back was rounded and the gait was smooth and rolling.

The chestnut's voice spoke in her mind. _I know something else, also._

_What?_

_Legolas and King Thranduil think that you can heal the elves with the strange disease._

_How do you know?_

_We horses hear things. If an elf tells his horse, that horse could tell other horses and we hear of it that way. My mother told me. Legolas may have told her._

_When did she tell you this?_

_When you first took me out of my stall. How could I have known before? I knew not that you even existed._

_Are you certain?_

_Yes. Legolas and the king think that you have powers that can stop the disease. _

_How?_

_I know not._

"How can they think that? I am only an orphan!" Too late, Elizabette realized that she had spoken aloud.

Both horses slowed to a walk. "What did you say?" asked Legolas.

"He just told me that you and your father expect me to stop the disease." Elizabette touched the chestnut's shoulder.

"How could he have known that?"

"He says that Silrocca told him."

The elf shrugged. "Well, it is true. We did not expect you to find out in that manner, but yes, we do think that you can do it."

"Is that why you brought me here? Not because you care about me, but because you care what I can do?" She did not give him a chance to answer. In her mind, she quickly asked, _Do you know how to return to the palace?_

_Yes._

_Then let's go! _Leaving Silrocca and Legolas standing on the path, she and the chestnut cantered back the way that they had come.

---

_We must follow them! _ Legolas thought to Silrocca.

_No,_ replied Silrocca with her usual calmness. _We should leave them be._

_Why?_

_Lady Elizabette is very angry, can you not see?_

_Why? What should I do about it?_

_The answer is in your own mind, cundunya. You will find it there. _She turned and followed Elizabette and the chestnut, but she kept her pace to a walk. _(My prince.)_

_Do you know the answer? _Legolas asked.

_I found it in your mind._ Silrocca set a barrier around her mind so that the elf's thoughts could not enter and find the answer there.

Legolas thought back to the day before, when Elizabette had said, "_No one cares about me and I care about no one.'_" The words seemed to ring in his head.

_Yes. Very good, cundunya._ Silrocca removed the barrier and sent that thought to him. _Now you must find a solution._

_Can we not go any faster?_ asked Legolas impatiently. _They might lose their way._

_My son will find the way home. _Silrocca's tone was final. _Legolas, you must find a solution._

_Do you have one?_

_No. _

_---_

_I need to slow down,_ the chestnut spoke in Elizabette's thoughts. _I am starting to become weary._

_All right, _Elizabette replied. He slowed at once to a half- trot.

_Why did that make you so angry? _he asked.

Elizabette thought back to the day before, pulling out memories and emotions for him to read.

After a moment, he replied, _Yes, I see. I understand your reasons to be angry if King Thranduil and Legolas care only about your powers. But how do you know that that is all that they care about?_

_I don't, really... I guess. But the way he said it..._ She was silent for a time.

_What shall I name you?_ she asked a few minutes later.

_That is your decision._

_Do you have no preference?_

_Offer me some names and I will judge them._

_I know little Elvish... Do you know the word for 'spirit'?_

_The words fëa and súlë both mean 'spirit'. _

_Súlë and fëa... How do you like the name Fërúnya? Or Súláríl?_

_Súláríl? I like it. What does it mean?_

_I think that it means 'fire- spirit'. _

_I like it... You may call me that_.

_Are we not nearly back to the palace?_ she asked a few minutes later.

_Nearly,_ replied Súláríl. _The palace is around the next bend in the trail._

Glancing ahead, Elizabette saw the curve. As they went around it, she could see the palace gates.

"Ma oatnë símen?" asked an Elven voice from inside the gates.

"Elénwen," replied Elizabette, remembering at the last moment.

Again, a guard opened the small door. "Heri Elénwen." He called over his shoulder, "Latya i andor!" _(Lady Elizabette. Open the gates.)_

The gates opened and Súláríl stepped through. He continued his way to the stables.

Once they arrived at the stables, Elizabette slipped off of his back. Súláríl followed her to his stall.

_What should I do now?_ she asked him.

_You must groom me,_ Súláríl replied. _My brush is over there. _He nodded his head toward the door of his stall. Elizabette pulled open a drawer and took from it a soft wooden brush.

They continued to communicate mentally as Elizabette brushed Súláríl. _You know not how strange this seems to me,_ said Elizabette at one point. _When I awoke this morning, I had no idea that horses could speak in the minds of the elves. I had never even touched a horse!"_

Súláríl let out a whicker that sounded quite like a laugh.

Elizabette smiled. _What do I do now? _she asked

_You are finished. You may stay in my stall if you care to._

Elizabette sat in the corner, comfortable on the dried fern leaves that were used for bedding. She slipped the necklace out of her pocket. _This is the symbol of Elrond's House,_ she told Súláríl.

Súláríl sniffed it. _I sense power in it, _ he commented in her thoughts.

_So everyone says,_ she replied a little moodily. She began to wonder what would happen is she were to put the necklace on. She was not ready to try. Not yet.

---

Silrocca was trotting easily. Legolas unconsciously sat the motion. He was determinedly pushing away all thoughts of Elizabette. He concentrated on the disease.

No one know what had caused it. It had been noticed about twenty years after the War of the Ring, and had started in Mirkwood. At first, the elves could recover, but as the disease progressed, it got worse until the elves died less than two weeks after displaying the symptoms.

Now it was widespread. Three elves had died in Lothlorien, and ten from Mirkwood. Only one had yet died in Imladris, but news came that others were ill.

Everyone tried to be cheerful but a dread fear had fallen over the elves. Anyone could be next- the disease was not transmitted in any recognizable way.

_Perhaps that is why everyone stared at Elizabette and I this morning,_ mused Legolas. _We were laughing._

_You are sorry that she misunderstood you,_ interjected Silrocca.

_Yes. I do care about her, and not only about what she can do for us. Tell me why, Silrocca. You an access parts of my mind that I am not aware of. _

Silrocca paused for a moment. _You are holding back some thoughts, but from what I perceive, you like her partly because she can make you laugh. Also, you admire the power she holds within herself. _

_How did you know that?_ asked Legolas. He had not known it himself.

_It was all in your thoughts, cundunya. _

They reached the palace gates. When they were admitted, Legolas led Silrocca to her stall. _Do you think that I should search for Elizabette?_ he asked.

_No. Leave her alone._

Legolas groomed her quickly, then left for the palace. A few minutes after he had left, Silrocca said into his mind,

_I will leave my stall. I wish to see my son._

_Do not leave the stables,_ cautioned Legolas.

_I will not. _

_---_

Súláríl pricked his ears, saying into Elizabette's mind,

_My mother approaches._

_Is Legolas with her?_

_I think not._ He whinnied softly to Silrocca as she came up to his stall.

_I should go,_ Elizabette told Súláríl.

_I shall see you later,_ Súláríl responded.

Elizabette went to her bedchamber and played with the lock on her trunk. She wondered if it could be opened without the key.

---

Silrocca contacted Legolas. _Elizabette was here but she went to her bedchamber. _

_What did your son tell you?_

_Elizabette has named him Súláríl._

_Interesting... Is she still angry with me?_

Silrocca paused. _Yes, but Súláríl has been listening to her thoughts, and she is wondering about her trunk. She knows not how to open it._

Legolas walked to Elizabette's bedchamber. "Elizabette?" he asked, knocking on the door.

Elizabette opened it slowly. "Yes?" she asked.

"Have you opened your trunk?"

"No, Legolas. How can I?"

Legolas sighed inwardly. She was still angry. "I may be able to, if you give me leave to try."

She stepped back as he entered, then closed the door.

Legolas drew his white knife, and examined the lock. The padlock itself was of rough, dull steel, but the latch was antique brass and had always been part of the trunk. He set the knife against the padlock and cut cleanly through it. It fell away.

Elizabette unlatched the trunk and slowly opened it. Both she and Legolas leaned forward to look inside.

A sheet of folded yellowed parchment lay on top. Elizabette carefully took it out and unfolded it. Legolas, watching her, saw an expression of shock cross her face. It was followed by disbelief, and complete amazement.

"Elizabette, are you all right?" he asked. Elizabette wordlessly held out the parchment. Legolas took it and glanced over it. His eyes widened. It was a family tree, showing the lineage of the house of Finwë. Legolas' eyes trailed down the chart, catching on the names Adrian Aicamacil and Lauren Laurëwen, and, on a thin spidery line below them, Elizabette.

"It is a lie..." whispered Elizabette. "It cannot be true... How is this possible?"

Legolas' eyes raked back up the parchment to Eärendil, down to Elrond and his two brothers, Elros and Elray. According to the chart, Elizabette's father Aicamacil was related to Elray through his wife, Elray's daughter, and Elizabette's mother Laurëwen.

"I do not believe that it is a lie," said Legolas thoughtfully. "I did not know that Lord Elrond had two brothers, but that does not mean that it is untrue. There would be no reason to lie."

"My father's name _was_ Adrian," Elizabette said softly. "and my mother was Lauren... They must have changed their Elvish names to sound like everyone else's..." She stared at the family tree. "I cannot believe it... I am related to Elrond... In my world, he does not even exist..."

Legolas was quite surprised also. "Elrond is... was your mother's uncle. Your great- uncle, I suppose."

Elizabette had forgotten her anger at him- for the moment. "How can this be possible? I am only an orphan..."

"Perhaps there is something in the trunk that will explain," Legolas suggested practically.

Elizabette folded the parchment and set it aside. Underneath it lay a small box made of light wood. Elizabette opened it carefully, for it was very heavy, but inside there was only a nondescript rock of a dark brown, roughly two inches in diameter. It was crudely hewn into a spherical shape, but it seemed that its maker had not worked overmuch on it.

Legolas took it from her hand with interest, weighing it in his palm. "This is heürn, a rare stone with magical properties," he said, examining it carefully. "We have only a few samples of it here in the palace."

"What can it do?" Elizabette queried, looking at the stone with new interest.

"In lore, it protects against evil," the elf replied. "But it is said to have other powers as well. I do not know what."

Below that was a letter from Elizabette's father; Aicamacil in Elvish, Adrian in Elizabette's own world.

Slowly Elizabette drew it out of its envelope and flicked it open.

-

Dear Elizabette,

As I write this you are four years of age. The disease has taken your grandfather Elráy, and your grandmother is struck with the symptoms. Your mother bids me write this, for you will not understand if we tell you now. Your mother fears that the disease will take us also, but it will not take you, for in you runs the power of your ancestor Melian the Maia.

We are elves, Elizabette. Elves from the land of Middle- Earth, which does indeed exist. Your grandfather, Elráy, was one of the brothers of Elrond Half- Elven. Elrond and Elráy chose the Elven- life. Elros chose the mortal life. He died long ago in the deeps of time.

You are nearly full- Elven. Someday you will enter Middle- Earth. I came from there as a young elf. Your mother has never been there, but your grandfather left Middle- Earth long ago.

He left quite by accident. Elráy always had a passion for the sea. He set sail in a small gray ship one day with his wife, Celewen, and was never seen again in Middle- Earth. Somehow the seas changed and they landed in this world, in America, instead of Valinor as they intended. Perhaps it was meant to be so.

Celewen had a necklace of the Star Eärendil, made of truesilver. She gave it to your uncle, Thomas Rhuan, as you know him, but his true name is Turcë Rúnya, Strong Red Flame.

He will bequeath it to you when the time comes. It will aid you.

Your Father,

Adrian Aicamacil

-

Elizabette stared at the letter. _No,_ she thought. _Impossible that it could be true._

"Elizabette? What is wrong?"

"The letter..."

The elf took it from her gently. He skimmed it quickly. "It is true, then," he said as of reading her thoughts. Elizabette nodded mutely and picked up the necklace from where it lay.

She stared at the star. _It will aid you... When the time comes..."_

"My father cared about me..." she whispered, so quietly that even with his Elven- senses, Legolas barely heard her.

"So did my uncle... and my grandfather... But I cannot remember them!"

Legolas was startled at the pain in her voice. "Elizabette? Something is wrong?"

"Oh, no, nothing is wrong, Your Royal Highness! I have only just discovered that no one in my family is who I thought they were and I cannot remember any of them! Nothing is wrong, of course." The biting pain and anger in her voice cut Legolas to the bone.

He was about to reply, although he was unsure of what he had been about to say, when Silrocca's quiet voice stopped him.

_Legolas. Try to understand what Elizabette is feeling. Do not get angry, for she does not mean it. You are her only hope when things get dark._

_What do you mean?_

_You will discover that later._

_How do you know this?_

_We horses know many things, _ replied Silrocca unhelpfully.

_I will try to be patient,_ he sighed wearily.

"Elizabette? Is there anything else in the trunk?" he asked. Elizabette crumpled the necklace into her her hand and looked. Her eyes widened in her surprise.

Either the trunk was magical, or it was playing a fey trick on Elizabette's eyes. When she looked inside, she saw a tiny sword, the hilts and tip of the blade touching the sides of the box. Yet when she reached in and took it out, it was the size of an ordinary sword.

Elizabette drew the sword from its dark leather sheath to see the blade. It was white, quite like Legolas' knife, and its long expanse, infinitely sharp, tapered in an elegant curve to a sharp point.

The sheath was of dark leather, smooth and plain, but it was cut out and sewn together so neatly and carefully that Elizabette knew that someone had labored long on it.

She sheathed the sword and glanced back into the trunk. Only one thing was left. Lying flat on the dark bottom of the trunk was-

"The photograph," whispered Elizabette, taking it carefully. She stared at it, tears in her eyes. Legolas came over to see it also. He understood that the photograph had some special meaning to Elizabette, although he knew not what.

A knock sounded lightly on the door. "Lady Elénwen?" came the king's voice.

"Yes?" replied Elizabette, pushing the sword under her pillow and stowing everything else neatly into the trunk. She closed the lid carefully.

"Have you eaten the midday meal? I was informed that you were riding this morning and missed it. Also, have you seen Legolas?"

"I am here, Atar," replied Legolas, opening the door.

"Have either of you eaten?"

"No, Atar."

"We will take the evening meal soon. Do you wish to wait until then?"

Legolas glanced at Elizabette, who shrugged. "All right, Atar."

The king left.

Legolas took the sword out from under Elizabette's pillow. "May I look at this?" he asked.

Elizabette shrugged again, picking up the photograph.

Legolas drew the sword.

Elves usually did not favor swords. Most preferred bows or knives. However, Legolas, as a prince, had been taught to wield the weapon.

The balance on this sword was excellent. He admired the blade.

"This is an old sword," he told Elizabette. "Ancient. Thousands of years have passed since its making."

Elizabette nodded. "Yes, Legolas."

Legolas sighed. Was she not going to relax?

_Have patience, cundunya. You must prove that not only her dead family cared about her._

Legolas sheathed the sword. "Elizabette, the dinner bell will ring soon. You had best change, my father will wish for you to wear something nicer."

"Yes, Your Highness," replied Elizabette as Legolas laid the sword on the bed.

Legolas moved toward her door. As he opened it, she said,

"Legolas." He looked around. "Do not speak of this to your father." She turned away. "Not yet, at any rate," she muttered as he closed the door.

Elizabette dressed quickly in the dark crimson velvet dress. She put on shiny black shoes and combed her hair.

Elizabette was unfailingly polite to the elf throughout dinner. Too polite, Legolas felt. He knew that she would not be rude to him in the king's presence but she did not have to be so unerringly polite.

"Did you ride the chestnut?" the king asked of Elizabette.

"Yes, sir. I named him Súláríl."

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes, sir."

"She is a good rider, Atar," interjected Legolas.

The king smiled at Elizabette. She liked him better now that he was less stern.

As they finished the meal, the king said, "Legolas, I will speak with you in my study."

Elizabette went to the stables after dinner. Súláríl was waiting for her. _I expected you_, he said into her mind.

Elizabette sat in the corner. Súláríl stood nearby, eating his evening food.

_My mother told me many things,_ he added.

_What?_

_She told me a mystical tale that we horses pass down from generation to generation. In this tale, there was a magical horse whose name was Fëasúrë, or 'Spirit of the Winds'. He ran about the country, helping people in need. With his magical powers he could heal any disease, any wound. He was special because he allowed no one to ride him, and worked in partnership with no one, and yet he could speak in anyone's mind and hear their thoughts. _

_In this way, he could perceive what they needed and he could give it to them, and he was loved by everyone. _

_But when trouble came to his lands, a man threw at him a spear that lodged in his chest and injured him sorely. In time, Fëasúrë healed, but he forgave not the race of man and he fled from the world. To this day, none have seen him. _

_Now there is sickness and disease in all lands and there are few who can heal them, _ he finished.

_What is your point, Súláríl?_

_Do you not know?_

Elizabette sighed. _Is it that you think that I should forgive him?_

Súláríl spoke slowly. _No. Do not forgive him yet. Forgive and forget, the old saying runs. Wait to forgive him. The time will come. Forget for now. Later, a time will come when you will do both and put the difficulties of your childhood behind you._

_Do you understand what he did to me? _asked Elizabette. _Do you know what I most wish for?_

There was a pause and Elizabette fancied that she could feel the horse actually sorting through her thoughts.

_Yes,_ he said after a time. _All of your live save for that brief time that you barely remember, you were pushed into the crowd. No one cared about you in particular, no family meant no visits, no break from the monotony of everyday life. You had no friends because of your intelligence and the simple fact that you had no family. _

_When Legolas came, you hoped that he might care about you, that he might be your friend. When he asked you to come here, you thought that he was your friend, and you were glad. Yet, this morning, when you learned that he hoped that you could save his people, you believed that he brought you here only for that reason. And now, you know not what to think._

_You are correct,_ Elizabette answered. _I did not know that I had thought all of those things._

_You are conscious of only a small part of your mind,_ replied Súláríl. A_s am I, of my own mind. However, someone from outside can access most of your mind, save for the small part where you lock your innermost private thoughts. That is surrounded by a wall of iron and only you hold the key._

_Do you enjoy speaking in riddles?_ asked Elizabette with a laugh.

_I was not speaking in riddles! _Súláríl protested. _I meant what I said. You do not always know what you are thinking in that part of your mind, but no one else can break in there._

_How far away can you hear my ordinary thoughts?_

_Many leagues... My mother once told me that an elf- horse can hear his elf- partner's thoughts over three hundred leagues away. The bond between minds is as strong as steel._

Elizabette considered. _Súláríl? You seem to be able to access my thoughts. Why can I not go to yours?_

_You can. I can also lock my thoughts against you. You would then be able to access only the tiny part in which we communicate._

_How can I get to your thoughts?_

_Concentrate on my mind, as you did this morning. Allow your thoughts to leave your mind and drift freely. Then think of my mind, and your thoughts will be drawn into it. It will be difficult at first, but you will become accustomed to it._

Elizabette relaxed against the stable wall, urging her thoughts to drift. As they left her mind, she suddenly felt the clear consciousness of Súláríl's mind. She concentrated on that feeling, pulling her thoughts into his mind.

Suddenly she felt a change. She was in his mind. She could feel his thoughts and his memories, and she detected the locked place that he had mentioned.

She gently pushed her thoughts into the area of his mind where he kept his memories. She sifted through them delicately, looking them over. She saw his memories of his early years, when he had been just a colt. She looked over a few, then gently withdrew. She found herself once again in that central place of his mind. She completely withdrew and opened her eyes. She thought to him, _It is very strange._

_It is at first. You will be able to enter my mind more easily as you practice. It is how we horses communicate._

_Súláríl? Were you listening to my thoughts when Legolas and I were opening my trunk?_

_Some._

_You may enter my mind and read what we found._

Súláríl was silent for a time. Elizabette played absently with the fern leaves on the floor. Finally Súláríl commented,

_Lord Elrond is your great- uncle. That is very interesting. Elros, the more commonly known brother of Elrond, died long ago. But we horses know that Elrond and Elros had one other brother, one who disappeared when all three were still fairly young. No one knows what happened to him, as he was never seen again._

_His name was Elráy,_ Elizabette told him. _How do you horses know this?_

_We have tales that we pass down through the generations. Tell me about the sword._

_It is quite plain,_ she replied. _The blade is white, and the sheath is of plain dark leather, though it is neatly and well made._

_You should show it to the king,_ suggested the horse. _He may know where it comes from. Will you tell him the other things that you learned?_

_I suppose that I should._

_Perhaps. He may be able to help you._

_Are you certain that I am supposed to be able to heal this disease? _ she asked.

_It is what the king wishes for,_ replied Súláríl.

_Do you believe that I can?_

_Yes. The necklace of Eärendil will help. _

_Yes..._ Elizabette stood. _I should go. It is getting dark._

_I shall see you tomorrow. Do not be rude to Legolas. Remember, forget for now._

Feeling tired but not completely comforted, Elizabette left. She returned to her bedchamber and took out the necklace again.

---

Legolas sat in his father's study, waiting for the king to arrive. He played with his thoughts, sorting them around, attempting to make their jagged edges fit like a puzzle.

_So Elrond is Elizabette's great- uncle. I never knew that Elrond and Elros had another brother. The story makes sense, however. I wish that I had asked Elizabette for permission to speak of what we discovered to my father. I dare not without her leave._

Legolas suspected that she was in the stables with Súláríl. He was amazed at how easily she had tamed the chestnut. Her name for the horse was interesting. It was a fitting name, yet strange. He guessed that Súláríl had told her the Elvish words.

_And the sword... _ his thoughts were interrupted abruptly as his father entered the room. Tall and imposing, King Thranduil dominated any room that he entered.

Legolas stood and bowed. "Atar," he said respectfully.

"Be seated, Legolas."

The elf sat again in the chair. "Yes, Atar?" he asked.

"Has Lady Elénwen opened her trunk? I feel that it holds something that will help us destroy this disease."

This put the elf in a difficult position. Elizabette had asked him not to tell the king of of this, and yet now his father asked him to speak. "Well, Atar..." he replied after a moment, "She did open her trunk, this afternoon... I helped her- but she asked me not to speak of what we discovered."

"Why not?"

"We were both quite surprised by what we found."

The king sighed. "She does not trust us, does she?"

Legolas frowned. "I am not certain, Atar. At first she trusted me, but this morning Súláríl told her that we wish for her to heal the disease and she became angry."

"Why?"

Legolas shifted uncomfortably. "I... I do not think that she would wish for me to say, Atar. It's personal."

The king frowned but did not protest. "Have you seen her since dinner?" A good hour had passed.

"No, Atar, but I expect that she is with Súláríl." His expression blanked as he contacted Silrocca.

_Silrocca?_

_Yes, cundunya._

_Has Elizabette been to see Súláríl?_

_She was here for a time but she left a few minutes ago._

_Do you think that I should have told my father why she was angry?_

_No. It is her own private conflict and she would not wish for him to know. _

_Thank you._ He withdrew.

"Silrocca says that she just left the stables, Atar."

"I would like to speak with her. Send her to me."

"Yes, Atar." The elf rose and bowed.

---

Legolas knocked lightly on Elizabette's door.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Elizabette? My father wishes to speak with you."

Elizabette opened the door. "What does he want?"

The elf shifted slightly. "Ah, well... he wants to know what you found in your trunk..." his voice trailed off.

Elizabette stiffened. "You told him? After I asked you not to?"

The elf looked away. "I did not tell him what you found out... I told him only that you had opened it."

"Oh yes," snapped Elizabette bitingly. "The perfect prince of Mirkwood can do anything he pleases, even if he is breaking a promise. Get out of my way, Your Highness."

"Elizabette, wait!" cried Legolas desperately, catching her arm.

Elizabette shook his hand off. "Kindly tell me where I may find the king."

"In his study- down that hallway, turn left, third door on the right." Legolas saw that it was useless to protest. Something inside her was bound by an iron rope of pride- until it was released, no one would be able to win her complete trust.

"Thank you," she replied icily, walking in the direction he had indicated. Legolas noticed that one of her hands was clenched into a fist- he suspected that it held the necklace of Eärendil.

Although it was rather late, the elf headed to the stables. Silrocca had been listening to his thoughts and knew all that had occurred.

_Patience, cundunya. All will be made clear in time. I sense that Elizabette does not completely trust herself- and the shock of what she learned this afternoon had made her retreat back inside her mind._

_She told me that she trusted me,_ said Legolas, sounding pained.

_Yes. And I think that she does, to a point._

_To a point?_

The horse nuzzled Legolas' blond hair. _To a point. She, as she told you, trusts you with her life but not her secrets._

_What does that mean?_

_It means, cundunya, that her secrets are more important to her than her life._

_How can they be?_

_They are to her. She would sooner trust no one and die with her secrets than speak of them to the wrong person and risk betrayal. You did not keep her promise. _

_I gave my father no information. I could not lie._

Silrocca said nothing. Disquieted by her silence, he added, _Elizabette can trust me._

_Can she?_ Silrocca left the words hanging in the air.

_Yes, she can. _Legolas spoke more firmly than he felt.

He prepared to leave. As he closed the stall door, Silrocca said into his mind,

_Be careful, Legolas. Elizabette's emotions run more deeply than you can fathom. If you say the wrong thing, she may turn on you forever._

Legolas left, feeling a little irritated. What was wrong with everyone? He had not told his father what Elizabette had discovered; he would keep his silence.

Into his mind came Silrocca's voice: _You did not keep her promise._ Legolas was unsure of whether she had actually spoken or if it had just been a memory of her words.

And what had Silrocca meant by her last comments?

Legolas fell into his bed, feeling that the day had been too long.

---

Elizabette knocked softly on the door of the study.

"Come in," came the king's reply.

Elizabette entered and curtsied neatly. "My Lord," she said respectfully.

"Lady Elénwen. You may be seated." He indicated the chair by his desk.

"Legolas told me that you wished to speak with me." She slipped the Star of Eärendil into her pocket.

"Yes... He mentioned that your horse, Súláríl, told you that we wish for you to heal the disease."

"Yes, sir." She dared not speak rudely to the king.

"Súláríl told you this?"

"Yes, sir. Silrocca told him. But, My Lord, how can you expect me to heal this? I am only an orphan. I have no powers."

"You are in some way connected to this disease... Correct?"

"Yes, sir," responded Elizabette, thinking of her family.

"And you are also in some way immune to it."

"How did you know that, sir?"

"I can sense it."

Elizabette did not reply. He was correct and well did he know it.

"Now," he said, "I wish to know what is in your trunk. I will understand if you do not care to tell me, but I wish that you could trust us."

Elizabette looked long at King Thranduil. For the first time she looked carefully at him, and she saw kindness and compassion in his eyes. Now her Elven- senses told her that she could trust him with this information.

"Yes, sir. I will you trust you with this." She paused for a moment. "Both Legolas and I were quite surprised. In the trunk... on top was a family tree- of my family. It says that my grandfather was Elráy, a brother of Lord Elrond and his brother Elros."

The king displayed no sign of surprise other than the quick flick of his eyebrows. He motioned for her to continue.

"My mother's name was Lauren and my father was Adrian. This family tree tells me that those were names that they took so that they would fit in in my world. Their Elvish names were Laurëwen and Aicamacil.

"Under the parchment was a wooden box that contains a brown rock. I could see no use for it but no doubt there is one. It is of plain brown stone, roughly spherical, but the cuts are very coarse and it is not at all smooth, though it is very heavy."

King Thranduil frowned. "No doubt you will find a use for it someday," he replied.

Elizabette continued, "Below that was a letter from my father." She swallowed hard, willing herself not to cry.

"He wrote it when I was four years of age, just before the disease took him. My grandfather had already died.

"My father wrote that he knew that I would not catch the disease, because I have the power of my ancestor Melian the Maia. However, I know not who she is, as her name is not on the family tree."

The king looked over at her. "Eärendil's wife, Elwing, was a descendant of Melian the Maia. Melian was an Elven- Queen in the beginnings of Middle- Earth. She was one of the Maiar, but she dwelt in Middle- Earth for a time. her daughter was Lúthien Tinúviel, who you may know of."

"Yes, I have heard of her." She continued after a moment, "My father wrote that I am almost pure- Elven, though not quite. He also said that someday I would come to Middle- Earth. And now I am here."

"Yes..." The king seemed deep in thought.

"Also, in the trunk, there was a sword- and a photograph."

"A photograph? What may that be?"

Elizabette smiled slightly. "A photograph is a- a picture- sort of like a drawing of people- or things." How could she explain? "You use a machine- a device, called a camera, to take a picture, and the camera... draws a picture of the subject... But it is not a drawing, it is shiny, and colorful..."

The king looked altogether confused.

Elizabette smiled. "It is of my family." Her smile vanished as she continued, "I can remember them taking the picture. It is my only clear memory of my family. I shall show it to you if you wish."

The king pondered a moment. "You mentioned a sword," he said.

"Yes, sir. It has a white blade and is in a brown leather sheath."

"How could a sword fit into the trunk?"

"I do not know, sir. It seemed to me very small as it lay inside, yet when I took it out, it seemed to grow larger until it was a normal size."

"Is that all that was there?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"I should like to see the sword and the family tree."

"Should I go fetch them?"

"If you would."

Elizabette rose and curtsied. She hurried to get the trunk and the sword. When she returned, the king was waiting.

He displayed an intense interest in the sword. "A magnificent blade. It is ancient and the balance is excellent."

"Legolas told me that."

"He was correct. Does your father's letter say nothing of its origins?"

"I think not, sir." She drew out the letter and handed it to him. He scanned it, blue eyes flashing.

"Hmmm... Interesting." He glanced over the hilt of the sword, looking for any marks that world indicate the origins. He appeared to find nothing.

Elizabette took out the folded family tree and the brown stone. King Thranduil sat at his desk, studying them. After a time, he looked up.

"I had heard that Lord Elrond had another brother," he said speculatively, "but I assumed that he chose the mortal life and died. I had no idea that he left Middle- Earth."

Elizabette shrugged. "I know not. Could it not be a lie?"

"No, I think not. It all makes sense."

Last she took out the photograph. She slowly handed it to the king, remembering that day. She and Sara and Michael stood in the foreground, smiling. Her baby teeth were small and pearly. Her hair had been golden then, and short. Sara's dark hair tumbled loosely on her shoulders. One of her front teeth was missing. She had been about five then, and Michael four, like her. Michael's golden hair was windblown from a morning of fun.

Glancing at the photograph, she noted how much she and Michael looked alike. They both had had pale skin and golden hair. Their bright gray eyes looked out on the world. Elizabette caught her breath slightly, thinking that if Michael were still alive, his hair would probably have darkened as hers had.

Elizabette's parents stood just behind. Her mother's golden hair was much like hers. Her name, Laurëwen, Golden Maiden, had come from her hair. Her father's hair was dark like Sara's.

How she remembered that day. If only she could bring it back...

She turned away, hiding the tears in her eyes.

If King Thranduil saw her emotion he did not show it. He examined the photograph carefully.

After a moment, he gave it back to her and studied the family tree again.

"Your name is Elizabette," he said with a frown. "I have heard my son call you that. You told me that your name was Elénwen."

Elizabette shifted guiltily. "I apologize, sir. Legolas gave me the name Elénwen. I used it because everyone stares so, and I did not wish to give them another reason."

The king nodded slowly. "Yes. I think that I understand. There is nothing wrong with having an Elvish name also. Your parents did. But, if you do not mind, I shall call you Elizabette."

"No. I do not mind. I am not accustomed to being called Elénwen anyway."

"Now..." The king indicated the family tree. "These are your parents." He tapped the names Laurëwen and Aicamacil. "But who are these?" He touched Turcë Rúnya and Arërel.

"My aunt and uncle, sir." She picked up the photograph and showed him. "These are my cousins, Sara and Michael." She tapped their images. "They are dead also."

King Thranduil saw her expression and said, "Thank you. You may go."

Elizabette curtsied and carried out her trunk. "Good evening, My Lord."

"Good evening," the king replied as she left. He sat back in his chair and put his head into his hands.

-

**Navaer Lalaith: The first dictionary you mentioned I have been to before, but I guess I find it kind of difficult that you have to search for each word instead of just looking through the dictionary. I have a very slow dial-up connection and it takes a while for everything to load. **

**Do _you_ by any chance know Sindarin? Right now I'm not particularly inspired by this story, but I guess if you think I should, I'll change the Quenya... but I don't really want to learn the grammar rules. I guess it might be worth it... I don't really like the idea of having a story that isn't correct. I happen to be a perfectionist. **

**You're right about the switching languages thing. I guess my explanation for it is that I needed a reason for them to speak Quenya, so I just made one up. **

**I changed the spelling of 'Quenya'.**

**Blonde/Blond. I guess I knew this, but just didn't bother really registering it. I've only taken one year of French, and had an awful teacher, so... sorry. **

**How is Westron/English being translated? You mean, how is it possible that Legolas, who speaks Westron, can understand Elizabette, who speaks English? Hmmm... I think I already tried to explain that... The way I think about it, the overlap of their 'worlds' just makes it possible. On Earth, English is pretty much the most widely- spoken language, and in Middle-Earth, Westron, while not the most spoken, is the language that the different races _can_ speak. Some of them. I guess I just decided that it was a trick of the overlap, and it made it easier. If that made any sense, good. **

**This is my first and probably my only fanfiction, and while I'd rather it wasn't cliché, I guess it's just going to have to be. I don't want to totally rewrite it, and my actual plot is starting to come out. Maybe sometime I'll rewrite it, but right now I've got... six? stories going and I don't need another big project. **

**Finally, thank you so much for your reviews. They really make me think of reasons _why_ I wrote something a certain way, and you point out things I've totally missed. I really appreciate it. **

**Jr8action: Thanks! Is this soon enough for you?**

**EyeoftheTigerKissoftheDragon: Yup, she's angry all right. But she'll come around I'm hoping so at least :) **

**Please review. I know there are people who read and don't review (I used to be one of them) but I really love reviews. They're my motivations on this story, and I really don't have any others.**

**Might I add that it's a blast furnace out here in the Midwest? Stupid weather... sorry, that was really random :)**


	6. Powers Unsheathed

**Finally decided that this story is disgusting, and went back and did a rewrite. I tried to make more of a marked difference in Legolas' grammar and speech and Lizzie's. I hope it shows. **

**I still haven't changed the language, and probably won't until I really get some time on my hands and a whole bunch of motivation to do so, but I clarified my plotlines and improved my writing. You probably won't have to reread, but you might want to... and in chapter 5, the small, round brown stone- remember it? -was given a better part- and that sounded weird, so whatever...**

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**I still find it amusing that some people put me on their author alerts and favorites lists, and never leave a review. Yes, that _was _a hint.**

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**I removed my song lyrics. A friend warned me about that.**

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**Chapter 6: Powers Unsheathed**

-

When Elizabette awoke the next morning, she felt refreshed. Part of it had been the sleep, she reasoned. But there was something else- talking to the king had helped also.

Elizabette felt a power rise inside her. On an impulse, though she felt that she had long planned it, she fastened the necklace of Eärendil around her neck.

At first, she felt no different. Then a pure white power surged into her, filling up the spaces in her soul that had long been waiting for this moment.

She felt aware of the things that she could do. Her power made her great, and she could do much.

Elizabette unclasped the necklace and folded it into her hand. The power had gone but the awareness had not.

An idea came into her head. She considered it carefully, then concentrated on one name,

_Silrocca!_ She shouted it into her mind.

_Yes?_ came an answer. The voice was much like Súláríl's, and yet unlike. It held more power, more wisdom of the passing years.

_Is that you, Silrocca?_

_Yes. How is it that you can speak to me in this manner, Elizabette?_

_I do not know. I put the Star of Eärendil on for the first time, and I saw that I could._

_What do you wish from me?_

_Is he listening right now?_

_I have sealed my mind against him._

Elizabette sighed. _Is it rude for me to contact you in this way?_

_No. But it is unusual. Legolas is the only one who has ever spoken to me in this way before._

_Is he angry with me?_

_No._

_Does he understand why I became angry?_

_Partly. He understands your reason for not wishing the king to know about the trunk. But he only somewhat understands your reason for anger yesterday morning. _

_Do you understand?_ asked Elizabette desperately.

_Yes._

_How?_

_Someday you will know._

Elizabette paused, perplexed. Silrocca spoke again.

_Legolas has had no terrible happenings in his life like those that you hold in your mind. Yet he too has a sorrow in his past._

Silrocca paused before continuing,_ The Queen, his mother, died giving birth to him. Legolas never knew her, so he does not miss her as he might have, as you miss your own family. But he does miss having a mother, as anyone might._

_Know that neither the King Thranduil nor Legolas ever speak of her. Know also the reason that I tell this to you- it will help you understand his reactions. _

Elizabette pondered for a moment. _Does Legolas have no siblings?_

_None. He is the crown prince and Thranduil's sole heir._

_Do you think that I should forgive him?_

_Forgive him? For not understanding? Yes. But do not forgive him yet for your misunderstanding yesterday. You will forgive him in time, when he comes to understand. For now, forget._

_That is what Súláríl suggested._

_Yes._

_Thank you,_ replied Elizabette gratefully, as she withdrew from the connection. She was unsure whether Silrocca would tell Legolas that they had communicated.

Elizabette slipped the necklace into the pocket of the sky-blue silk dress that she wore. Already she had become accustomed to wearing dresses. She relished the soft luxurious rustle of silk and enjoyed the feel of velvet against her skin.

Legolas did not appear and she walked to the dining hall alone. The king sat at the high table. She curtsied and sat in the chair that he indicated.

Legolas did not come. Elizabette surveyed the dining hall. She was puzzled- Silrocca had told her that Thranduil and Legolas were the only royalty, and that there were no females. _But..._ Elizabette frowned, thinking hard. There were hardly any female elves at all. Elizabette had seen the maid that straightened her bedchamber, and she had glimpsed one other female elf, but otherwise she had seen few. As a matter of fact, she had seen few elves at all.

After a moment she decided to ask. "Why are there so few elves?"

The king sighed. "Many have passed over the sea to Valinor. The few that remain are careful and wary because of the disease. Most of our elf- women are in the house where the diseased wait for death. We call it Manonaicë, Place of Pain."

Elizabette shivered at the words. "I would like to go to this house," she said.

The king was about to reply when the door to the dining hall opened and Legolas stalked in. He threw himself into a chair and took some food.

The king's eyebrows flicked up. "You are late, onya," he observed. "What is amiss?"

Legolas glared at Elizabette. "My horse, Silrocca, told me that you spoke to her!"

Elizabette frowned. "I did."

"_My_ horse! Why do you not talk to your own and leave mine alone? She was loath to tell me at first. When before has Silrocca kept things from me? This is all because of you!"

Elizabette was surprised at the elf's wrath. "What is troubling you?"

"What is _troubling _me? How is it that you can talk to _my_ horse?"

"The Star of Eärendil," Elizabette replied, trying to keep her own anger from rising. She drew it from her pocket.

Legolas stared furiously and turned away. After a moment, Elizabette asked, "What is the problem? I wanted to ask her a question!"

"Why do you not ask Súláríl? Leave Silrocca alone!"

"I will, and you too!" Elizabette flared, and hurried from the room.

Legolas took a bite of his breakfast.

"Onya, what is the matter?" asked King Thranduil.

"Ai, Atar, do you not understand? She was talking to Silrocca through mind- communication!"

"It is unusual," responded Thranduil, "but I fail to see how it is bad. She told you herself that she wished to ask a question of Silrocca."

"Silrocca is _my_ horse! Why does she not ask Súláríl?"

"Silrocca is older and more experienced. She is also your horse, as you mentioned."

"What about it?"

"She has been here long and knows you well. She may have been able to tell Elizabette something useful."

"She would not say what they spoke of."

The king sighed. "Onya, I am older than you and have more wisdom. Let this go; forgive her. She had a reason, I am certain."

"Yes, Atar," replied Legolas sullenly.

The king laughed softly. "Legolas, you have not spoken to me in that tone since you were an elfling."

Legolas did not smile. His anger was fading and he was almost beginning to regret his outburst. He was able to release the anger but a small chafing hurt remained.

---

Elizabette arrived hurriedly at Súláríl's stall. He had been listening to her thoughts and quite understood what had occurred.

_My mother wishes for you to contact her,_ he said into her thoughts.

_Why?_

_She asks that you contact her,_ Súláríl repeated.

Sighing, Elizabette collected her thoughts. _Silrocca?_

_Yes. Súláríl asked you to contact me._

_Yes. Why?_

Silrocca's voice dropped slightly. _I am sorry about what has occurred. At first I had decided not to tell Legolas, but he knows me too well and recognized that I was hiding something. _

_So I told him. His anger surprised me, and I believe that something else troubles him. Know that he is also angry at me._

_I did not mean to cause so much trouble,_ apologized Elizabette, stricken.

_He will come around. _

_Did you tell him what I asked you?_

_No. I will not._

_Thank you._

_Súláríl will tell you if I wish to speak with you again. _

_I was planning to visit the diseased elves,_ Elizabette told Silrocca. _Do you think that I should?_

_Yes. Ask the king; he will have someone show you the way._

_I will. _Elizabette withdrew from the connection.

She patted Súláríl's neck, playing with his golden brown mane.

_You will visit Manonaicë? _he asked in her thoughts.

_Yes. The time has come. _

Elizabette left after a time. She went to the throne room, where the king sat. Legolas sat on a chair beside the throne.

Elizabette ignored him. She curtsied to the king. "My Lord, I wish to go to the house Manonaicë."

"Yes. I will ask someone to show you the way." His eyes slid over to his son. "Legolas, go ask Duinral to come to me."

"Yes, Atar." Legolas hurried out of the room.

He did not return but Duinral came. The king asked him to lead Elizabette to the house.

"Yes, My Lord," he replied respectfully.

When they arrived at Manonaicë, Elizabette immediately sensed pain and watchfulness in the atmosphere.

Duinral showed her to the first room then left as a female elf appeared.

She curtsied. "My name is Mirwen," she told Elizabette with a sad smile, who curtsied and greeted her in return.

Mirwen motioned to the bed. "He has been here for a week. The king sent us word that you have healing powers. Can you help him?"

"I do not know," replied Elizabette absently. She fingered her necklace. "I shall try." She turned to the elf. His pale skin was waxy and his hair was damp with sweat. He opened his eyes weakly. With a flash of pain, Elizabette remembered her last sight of her mother before her death. Her throat constricted and for a moment she could not breathe. Then a shiver ran through her thin body and she closed her eyes, fighting panic.

Reaching into her pocket, Elizabette touched the Star of Eärendil. The pain and panic subsided as the power replaced them.

_Power given..._ The words seemed to come from afar. This star had been given to her by her grandmother, through her uncle. The power was hers.

Elizabette stepped over to the bed. She pushed back the panic that started to rise and slipped the necklace out of her pocket. Suddenly certain and calm, she fastened it around her neck and relaxed her mind, allowing herself to feel the power. She gathered it, much as she had when fighting Matron, and twisted it tightly into a knot. Laying a hand on the elf's fevered forehead, she released a little of the power. She waited a long while, feeling her strength gradually drain as she impressed the power with her will. Finally the elf's breathing became easy, and his glazed eyes became clear. The waxiness vanished from his skin, and Elizabette sighed and staggered back.

He smiled slightly and thanked her.

Still surprised at what she had done, Elizabette smiled in return and stepped away. The elf was still weak, but the clutch of the disease had been broken and he would live.

Elizabette leaned against the wall, releasing the power.

I must not allow my emotions to overcome me again, she thought, irritated with herself. A memory of the panic arose in her mind but she pushed it back into the locked chamber of her mind, closing the door securely.

Closing it. But not locking it. Elizabette knew that someday she would have to acknowledge her memories. Someday. They caused her much pain at times, on those dark nights when all was black. Then they crept out into the conscious part of her mind and tortured her.

"Are you all right, My Lady?" Mirwen had come over.

Elizabette slowly opened her eyes. "Yes," she said softly. "Yes, I am fine. Who else is ill?"

Mirwen led her to the other rooms, one by one. Elizabette gathered the power each time, releasing a tiny curl of it through her hand.

When she had broken the disease in everyone and they all slept easily, Elizabette at last allowed herself to sink into a chair.

All of the elves had thanked her. Yet Elizabette felt that the thanks should not go to her. They should go to all of her family- all down the line, back to Melian the Maia.

"Are you all right?" Mirwen asked again.

"Yes." And indeed she was. This was what she had come into Middle- Earth to do. It was her purpose.

Yet she was not finished. The disease was still there. It would return. Elizabette had to find a way to stop it for once and for all.

After taking her leave, she returned to the throne room. The king seemed to have been waiting for her. She told him all that had occurred, save only the panicked memories that had filled her.

---

Legolas sat in Silrocca's stall. She spoke softly into his mind,

_I should not have told you, cundunya._

Legolas stood and rubbed her neck. _I suppose that I should not have gotten so angry._

_If I am correct, something else troubles you._

_You are._ The elf said nothing for a long moment. Then he continued softly, _I know not exactly what it may be. Partly it is a shadow that grows in my mind. But there is also another thing. Can you tell me what it is?_

_No, cundunya. You have locked it into your mind. _

_Are you certain?_

_Yes. But the shadow is from the disease. You fear that it may come to you and your father. Also you know that something evil causes it, and it must be stopped. _

The elf smiled in spite of himself. _You are correct. _

_Then know this: Elizabette has healed some of your people of this disease._

_What? How? How do you know this?_

Silrocca's voice was calm. _In answer to the latter... Súláríl told me. The necklace of Eärendil gave her the power that she needed. _

_I thought that she would not do it, _ said Legolas. _Did she not become angry because that is what we wished for her to do?_

_Cundunya, she did not do this for you. She did it for her own family, and for her distant ancestor, Melian the Maia. _

_For her family? What do you mean?_

_That, cundunya, you must discover for yourself. I will not betray her. _

Legolas' voice was angry in Silrocca's mind. _This is her doing! Why did she force you to keep things from me?_

Silrocca remained composed as usual. _This is my own doing, cundunya. As I said before, you will have to learn for yourself. _

_Why did she trust you? Why not another elf? Why not me?_

_Has she a reason to trust you?_

Legolas leaned against her silver neck and did not reply.

---

Legolas was late again. Elizabette and King Thranduil sat in the dining hall. Neither spoke much. Elizabette was concentrating on keeping her thoughts contained and staying the panic whenever it rose.

When Legolas arrived, she tensed immediately. He took his seat without looking at her. She finished quickly and left.

When she had gone, the king sighed heavily and said to Legolas,

"Onya, can you not tell me the reason of your anger?"

Legolas replied, "Atar, I cannot tell you because I do not know myself. I was angry only partly because of Elizabette's communication with Silrocca. A shadow haunts me, growing longer with each passing day." He paused for a moment. "And yet, Atar, I cannot tell you the reason of Elizabette's anger at me for it would be another betrayal of her trust." He sighed.

-

**Thanks for reviewing: BlahBLANKo-o**; (A new reviewer! Thank you.) **Inwe (**Another new reviewer. Thanks!)**, shannon, Mystical Full Moon Maiden, BellaRu (**I try:)**, Eleniel of the Stars, **(yeah, it's a mary-sue, but hey... I'm glad you like it anyway)**, IwishChan, and Navaer Lalaith **(Thanks for your offer to translate. I'm thinking about it... but I'm thinking right now that I'll change all the Quenya when I do my (eventual) rewrite of the entire story. I suppose I should explain: I have problems writing stories in chapters and posting them, then writing more chapters... I don't even know why :) but I guess it's because I'm always going back and changing things and it's a hassle to repost each chapter. So far I think I've replaced each of the five chapters, except maybe 5, at least twice. I have an unfortunate tendency toward laziness.

I wrote the story in seventh grade, but as was my habit then, I didn't really have a plot in mind until maybe three chapters in... so consequently I hate the beginning and some of the rest of it too... it was mainly my experiment story. Did I mention that I'm a perfectionist at the most inconvenient times? It's paradoxical that I can post this and not care that it's not perfect... but whatever.

I know it badly needs rewriting... but right now I'm working on a bunch of things and don't really want to.

Right now I'm just pretty much posting the chapters as they are, with a few edits and changes, but redoing the story will be a major job, I think. I actually have it written until chapter... 26? I think. And after that, I got writer's block, and dropped the story in the farthest corner of one of my files. So eventually I'll rewrite it... but not now. So thanks for the offer.

As for my 'common tongue' theory, I think I will try to put some more effort into it. It was interesting that I thought of it when I just needed an excuse to be lazy...)

**Thanks for reading, and please review. **


	7. Dark Battles

**Chapter 7: Dark Battles**

Several days passed. Legolas and Elizabette avoided each other, angry words hanging like a cloud between them. Elizabette went each day to visit Manonaicë and the ill elves that stayed there. Their conditions improved with every passing day.

But another problem had arisen. More elves fell ill and at a greater rate. It took all of Elizabette's strength to heal them and she grew weaker.

The healing was not the largest problem. Her memories, awoken by the first sight of the elves with the disease, haunted her. They tore at her delicate spirit and stole her sleep. She ate less and less and spoke little.

The king knew that if Elizabette fell ill, all would be lost. Her powers lessened as she grew weaker each day.

One evening, he said as they finished dinner, "I would speak with the two of you this night in my study." Legolas nodded silently. Elizabette did not move.

The king watched her with worried eyes. When she had first come to Middle- Earth, her laugh and cheer had helped everyone. Though she had been overly thin at first, the generous meals at the palace had improved her appearance to no end. But now she ate little and she became thinner once again. Her face was shadowed from lack of sleep and she seemed constantly weary.

Elizabette curtsied as she entered the study. "My Lord," she said.

Legolas followed her. He bowed respectfully and said, "Atarinya." _(My father.)_

The king motioned them to chairs near his desk. Elizabette wrestled the memories back into the locked chamber, trying to concentrate.

She felt quite ashamed as the king spoke to both her and Legolas.

"Is there not enough confusion and discord already without the two of you arguing? Are not people ill? Do you care not? Remember, Legolas, that as the prince, you set an example for the rest of our people. Imagine what our lands would be like if everyone argued. Are we not close enough to that? Think before you answer, both of you."

Elizabette bowed her head. She knew better than anyone how bad the disease was. She stood and curtsied. "I apologize, My Lord."

Legolas frowned slightly but also rose and bowed. "I apologize also."

The king looked pleased. "Now you will apologize to each other."

Elizabette curtsied to Legolas, repeating the statement. She did not meet his blue eyes.

Legolas bowed to her, echoing her words.

"You may go," said Thranduil. "Thank you."

Legolas went to his chambers but Elizabette went to Súláríl's stall. The day spent with the sick brought out more painful memories, and as she became weaker they could overpower her even in daylight.

The previous night had been the worst. She had not slept for several days, and the memories had completely overpowered her. She had sat in agony for hours, awaiting the cold dawn.

Súláríl could not help her when she was far from him, but he could help her drive some of the memories away when she was near him.

As the night darkened, Elizabette lit her lantern and leaned back against Súláríl's side. He lay quietly on the fern leaves, resting.

Against her will, Elizabette's thoughts turned to her first view of the sick elves. Weak and feverish, barely controlling their own minds... Just like her mother, on the last night before her death...

A tear rolled down her cheek and she bowed her head.

---

Legolas sat by his window, staring out into the dark trees.

_Mirkwood it is indeed..._ he thought. _How my heart longs for the sea and the blessed lands beyond... Yet I will not leave Aragorn before his death... Nor can I leave the elves who are afflicted with the disease..._

Idly he watched a small light from the stables. Then, as his pondering thoughts faded, he wondered at the light.

Curious, Legolas opened his window and lightly dropped to the ground below. A guard glanced over but most were familiar with the elf's method of exiting the palace hurriedly.

Legolas slipped over to the darkened stables and entered quietly. He patted Silrocca as he passed her stall, but he felt that he already knew where the light came from.

He was correct. Súláríl lay on the ground, Elizabette beside him. She held her head in her hands, gold- tinted curly hair slipping over her face.

"Elizabette? What ails you?" The elf dropped to his knees beside her.

She shook her head mutely. Súláríl lifted his head and looked at Legolas for a moment, then dropped it to the ground again. Elizabette shivered suddenly.

"Elizabette?" he asked again.

Silrocca spoke into his head,_ Legolas, Elizabette fights a battle in her mind. You must help her draw outside of her thoughts and relax. _

_How do you know this?_

_Súláríl told me. You _must_ help her. Every night she fights the memories. They were reawoken when she once again came in contact with the disease. _

_How can I help her?_ Legolas asked.

_That I cannot tell you. You alone can help her._

"Elizabette? Can you not hear me?"

Elizabette nodded slightly. She lifted her face and Legolas saw that tears streamed down.

"What is wrong?"

Elizabette dropped her head and did not respond.

"Elizabette. Can you not hear me?" he asked again.

Elizabette shivered again but said nothing.

In desperation, Legolas said, "Elénwen, poltyë hlar nin? Lasta nin!" _(Elizabette, can you hear me? Listen to me!)_

Slowly Elizabette lifted her head. The pain in her eyes was obscured with liquid sadness, forming a shimmering pearly wall that Legolas could not reach through to help her.

"Elizabette, what is wrong?"

Elizabette only shook her head, tears sliding down her face. Legolas moved closer to her. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he repeated the question.

"Everything..." she whispered so softly that he could barely hear.

"Can you tell me?"

"You would not understand..." She dropped her head again, gray eyes swimming with tears.

"Elizabette," said Legolas. "Something haunts you. Can you not tell me what?"

Elizabette slowly looked up. It seemed that it took her a great effort. Her soft curls slid off of her face as she looked up at the elf. She searched his blue eyes.

Seeming to decide, she whispered, "My memories haunt me... Ever since I saw the elf... with the disease. Each night I battle them... and as I become weaker, they become stronger."

"Why do you not eat?"

"I have not been myself... Sometimes I feel the present, sometimes I am wrapped in the past."

Elizabette trembled again and Legolas squeezed her shoulders.

"I am myself now... You have helped me."

"Why are you in the stables?"

"My bedchamber was too dark and empty. I desired company. Where else could I have gone?"

"Can Súláríl help you drive away these memories?" asked Legolas.

"He tried. We held them off for a while, but in the end, they prevailed, as they always do and will. Someday, I fear, I will be overpowered and will never return to the present."

"What haunts you?"

Again she searched his eyes. Seeming to find something there, she whispered, "Seeing the elves with the disease brought back painful memories..." She paused for so long that Legolas thought that she would not continue. "My mother... on her deathbed... She looked just like they do. Her forehead was feverish, and her golden hair damp. Her skin was pale and wasted, and her eyes..." She caught her breath and a single tear slid down her face. "Her last words to me were, 'Elizabette, I leave this world. Farewell, my daughter.' " She paused, more tears slipping down her face. "That was the last time that I saw her. My uncle brought me away and I did not go to her funeral."

"What is a funeral?" he could not help but ask.

"A gathering where people mourn for a death." After a moment, she continued, "My father had already died... oh..." She did not continue. Legolas squeezed her shoulders again and she leaned against him.

"Elizabette," he said softly a moment later, "My father wishes to send a messenger to Lord Elrond. I think that he could help you. Will you allow us to send a message to him?"

Elizabette looked up slowly. "As you wish," she said.

"Will you remain here the whole night?" Legolas asked later.

"I have no desire to return," she replied. "But I cannot sleep. When I am in less control of my mind, my memories take over with more ease."

"Do you want me to stay?"

"No. You need your sleep."

He left after a time. He felt somewhat guilty doing so, but he thought that he could not help her much anyway.

He was wrong. As soon as he left his warm presence dissipated into the darkness of the night, and Elizabette felt cold and lonely.

Súláríl slept and the stable was silent. Her lone candle was the only light, sometimes flickering so much in the draft that she thought it would go out, leaving her immersed in darkness within and without.

Hour after hour she sat, waiting for dawn. As the sun slipped over the edge of the horizon, she stood and walked silently back to her bedchamber.

She arrived in the dining hall a few minutes after Legolas and the king. She took a seat, walking slowly so as not to cause herself dizziness.

Legolas noticed that the shadows on her face were more pronounced than ever. He urged her to eat but she took little.

Legolas went to speak with his father. Thranduil was pleased that Elizabette had agreed to allow them to send the message. He told Legolas that he would send someone off at once.

When Legolas went to Elizabette's bedroom, she sat in her chair, looking out of the window. She looked all right and so he left her.

---

Elizabette stared out into the dark forest. Legolas had helped her more than he knew. Even after he had left the stables, she had had more strength to resist. Now she was weary but she could not sleep.

Two more elves had fallen ill but she had not the strength to go to them.

---

Legolas and Silrocca went on a short ride. The elf told her everything that had occurred.

As they made their way back, Silrocca said urgently, _Legolas, Elizabette needs you. Súláríl sends word to me. Go to her. _

_Why?_

_I know only that it is urgent. _

Legolas hurried to Elizabette's bedroom. She lay on her bed, asleep. At first Legolas was surprised that she would allow herself to sleep, but he thought that she had probably fallen asleep against her will.

Suddenly a little cry escaped her lips and she shivered. Legolas stood uncertainly at the door.

Hesitantly, he stepped inside, asking Silrocca, _What must I do?_

_Wake her._

He stepped over to Elizabette's bed.

_Hurry._ Silrocca's voice echoed in his mind.

He gently shook Elizabette's shoulder. She stirred slightly but did not awaken.

"Elizabette." He shook her again, adding, "Cuiva." _(Awaken.)_

She stirred again and opened her eyes. "Legolas?"

"Are you all right?"

"No." She lifted a hand and rubbed her eyes. "I was weary and fell asleep against my will."

"How long has it been since you last slept?"

Elizabette closed her gray eyes. "Four days, I think."

"Can you not sleep?"

"I can for a time. Then I lose my guard."

"Can you sleep if I stay here?"

"Perhaps. As you entered the room the pain lessened."

"I will stay. Go to sleep."

"Thank you..." Her voice trailed off as she dropped her head. Legolas took a chair near the bed.

At one point, she stirred and whispered something so softly that the elf could not hear it. He laid a hand on her forehead, half expecting to feel the fever of the disease. But Elizabette's forehead was cool, and she lay quietly, golden- brown hair spread out on her pillow.

She awoke just before noon. Legolas heard her breathing pause as she awoke. He turned from the window. Elizabette's clear gray eyes were open and no longer filled with pain or tears.

Her lips curved into a smile. "Thank you. I feel much better."

"Are you rested?"

"Fairly. I am stronger now."

Legolas still wondered what had afflicted her.

Elizabette sensed his unvoiced question. "Someday you will understand."

"What do you mean?"

"I cannot tell you, for it is not clear to me."

Legolas shrugged. "You had better eat something. It is almost midday."

He glanced around the bedchamber. The sword lay on the table. "What did my father say about your sword?" he asked.

Elizabette thought back. "He wondered how it could have fit into the trunk... He said that it was ancient... He spent a time looking for a name on the hilt, but I do not think that the found anything."

The elf nodded. "Lord Elrond may know where it came from. My father sent a messenger this morning."

They walked together to the dining hall. As they entered, King Thranduil looked up. He noted at once that Elizabette did not look so weary as she had that morning.

Elizabette ate enough at that meal. She did indeed feel stronger as she finished.

Elizabette left the table before either Legolas or the king. When Legolas went to her room later, he found her sitting on her bed, studying the photograph, though without pain or sorrow.

She glanced up as he entered. "These are my parents," she told him, pointing them out. "My aunt Allison and my uncle Thom- Arërel and Turcë Rúnya in Elvish. These are my grandparents." She sighed, and a shadow of pain crossed her face. "These are my cousins, Sara and Michael. And this is me." She tapped her face in the picture, remembering that day. Her curly golden hair blew in the wind.

"That is you?" The elf was obviously surprised.

Elizabette laughed. "I was four years old."

Legolas was again surprised. "Four? How old are you now?"

"I was fifteen when I left my world. I do not know now how old I am."

"It does not really matter," said Legolas with a laugh. "You are immortal, now."

Elizabette frowned. "Exactly," she said. "I thought that elves were immortal- why, then, are they dying?"

Legolas' smile vanished. "Elves can die of wounds, but never before have we died of illness. This disease has evil powers. It kills us like nothing else can."

"Have you been to Manonaicë?"

"Several times. It is horrible but it does not trouble me as it does you." He paused for a moment. "Someday my father and I will join their number."

Elizabette looked at him thoughtfully. "Perhaps," was all that she said.

She went down to see Súláríl later. He waited in his stall.

_You are more rested, _ he said.

_Yes. I slept this morning._

_Has the king sent a messenger to Lord Elrond?_

_Yes._ She rubbed his face gently. _How long do you believe that it will be until he returns?_

Súláríl considered. _On horseback? Perhaps a fortnight, perhaps more. It depends on many things. _

_I must wait a fortnight?_

_Yes._

_Will you visit the diseased today?_ he asked later.

_I do not know. Each time I see them, I feel worse. _

_Why do you not ask Legolas to accompany you?_

_I could... But he has already done so much. More than I deserve, after..._ She did not complete the sentence, but Súláríl understood.

_Can we go for a ride?_ she asked Súláríl later.

_Not by ourselves. You cannot fight if we are attacked._

Elizabette sighed. _Mirkwood is so gloomy. The very darkness depresses me. Around the palace there is more light but the rest of the forest is damp and the sun does not penetrate._

_Perhaps we will go to visit Elrond,_ suggested Súláríl.

_Perhaps._

Súláríl ears flicked. _The prince approaches,_ he thought to Elizabette.

Legolas appeared at the door of the stall. "Elizabette?" he asked softly. "My father wishes to know if you plan to visit Manonaicë today."

Elizabette sighed. "I do not know," she answered. "You have helped me more that you know, yet I think that if I return there, I may weaken again."

"Do you want me to accompany you?" asked Legolas.

"I am certain that you have more enjoyable things to do," replied Elizabette, gently rubbing Súláríl crest.

"I will come if it will help you," said Legolas.

"It will," said Elizabette softly. "Thank you."

She patted Súláríl. Legolas came into the stall and held his hand out to the horse. Súláríl shook his mane, warily sniffing the elf's hand, and allowed Legolas to pat him gently on the forehead.

Elizabette played with Súláríl's forelock absently.

_What is troubling you?_ the horse asked in her mind.

_I am nervous about going to Manonaicë, as well you know,_ she replied.

_Yes, that I knew, but something else troubles you._

_What is it?_

_I cannot tell. You have locked it into your mind. _

Elizabette shrugged and withdrew. Legolas was watching her.

"Shall we go?" he asked.

"I... I suppose so," she replied hesitantly. Well did she know that the first sight of any of the fevered elves could send her back to fighting her memories.

Legolas sensed her thoughts. "Come, then. I will stay with you," he added gently. "I do not see how I can help, but..."

"You have helped me more than you know. Thank you."

The elf smiled and led the way to Manonaicë.

Elizabette paused just outside the door. _Are you certain that I should do this, Súláríl? _ she asked.

_Legolas will help you,_ he replied.

Legolas came over. Glancing at her face, he asked quietly, "Are you quite certain that you want to do this?"

"They will die if I do not." She took a breath and stepped inside.

The usual pain in the atmosphere weighed her down. For a moment her breath was short and she could not move. Legolas sensed it also and took her hand.

Elizabette felt warmth rush through her as Legolas' fingers touched hers. All of her nervous dissipated and was replaced by confidence.

She smiled at Legolas and together they entered the first room.

Elizabette drew the Star of Eärendil out of her pocket and fastened it around her neck. As the power surged up inside her, she laid a hand on the elf's hot, sweaty forehead.

She pressed a little of the power out of her palm, impressing her will upon it. After a moment the elf opened his eyes and smiled. His eyes were clear and his damp hair began to dry.

"Thank you, My Lady." he said to her. Seeing Legolas, he added, "My Lord."

Legolas came over to him. "You need not call me that, Aryonsûl. Do you feel better?"

"Yes, indeed, Legolas," answered Aryonsûl.

"How long have you been ill?"

"Only three days, Your Highness."

The elf smiled. "Ser uróma," _(Rest quietly)_ he said as they left.

There was one more male elf, and three females. One of the females was only just beginning to show the symptoms. She hardly looked ill.

"Legolas," she said aside to him, "Do you not think that you should not come here?" She glanced around. "What if you catch the disease?"

"I am quite as likely to catch it in the palace as I am here," he replied. "It is not transmitted in any recognizable manner."

"It is very strange," said Elizabette after a moment. "I perceive that this disease is caused by some evil. It must be stopped."

The elf frowned. "Do you know where it may come from?"

"I believe that its source is in or near Mirkwood," replied Elizabette thoughtfully, "for it started here. Perhaps the power grew stronger and that is the reason that it spread everywhere. I can heal the disease in individual elves but in Lothlorien and Imladris it still spreads. There must be a way to stop it for once and for all."

Legolas frowned. "But how?"

"I do not know."

After Elizabette had helped all of the diseased elves, she and Legolas returned to the stables.

Elizabette patted Súláríl, and told him in her mind what had occurred. He made no comments, but Elizabette sensed his question.

_I am all right, _ she told him. _It did not trouble me as much as it might have._

_Because of Legolas?_

_Perhaps._

_Have you forgiven him?_

_Well... He has helped me much. But I cannot completely forgive and trust him until he understands. Someday he will._

_How do you know?_ asked Súláríl.

_It came to me in a dream... Something will come about that will pain him greatly, though perhaps not beyond recovery. _

_Elizabette? Do you know what will happen?_

_Yes. It came to me in a second dream._

Súláríl slipped into her thoughts, then carefully withdrew after a moment.

_Yes,_ he said, _it will pain him horribly. He may indeed go beyond help, as you nearly did. _

Elizabette closed her eyes. _I dare not tell him,_ she told Súláríl.

_No. You should not. _

"Elizabette?" She had forgotten that Legolas was there. "Are you all right?"

Elizabette opened her gray eyes. "Yes, I am fine." After a moment, she added, "When do you believe that the messenger will return?"

"The messenger to Lord Elrond? I know not; six days, perhaps, at the least."

---

They went back to the palace together for dinner. After dinner, Elizabette returned to her bedchamber. Legolas followed her later.

"Elizabette?" he asked softly. "I wish to know something. Have you forgiven me?"

Elizabette sighed. "In the way you mean, yes. But I cannot truly forgive you until you understand what torments me." She sat. "You will not be able to do so without great pain."

"Why not? What will happen?"

"I cannot tell you." She turned away.

"Why must it cause me pain?" Legolas asked.

"It must, for, without your own pain, you cannot understand mine." She sighed again and closed her eyes. "Please do not question me about this, Legolas. You do not wish to know, for it would haunt you and you would attempt to prevent things that must come to pass."

The elf was puzzled. "I do not understand," he said.

"You will," she responded softly.

---

A week passed. Every day Elizabette went to heal the sick elves, but every day their numbers grew. Sometimes Legolas accompanied her and sometimes he did not. Every night the memories returned, welcomed by the darkness, but as Elizabette grew stronger and as Legolas helped her, their power over her grew less.

Ten days after he had set off, the messenger to Lord Elrond returned. King Thranduil called Elizabette and Legolas to the throne room to hear his messages.

The elf's name was Rúnayë. Elizabette listened carefully as he told them,

"My Lords and Lady, I rode quickly to Imladris and I was well received. I presented your messages to Lord Elrond. He seemed quite surprised and indeed, horrified, at first, for though he said that he had indeed had another brother named Elráy, he had been killed in battle.

"After a time he decided that, since Elráy's body was never found, it could be true, and he asked you to bring me these messages:

"Firstly, he wishes that Lady Elénwen be sent to see him. He intends to see and speak with her.

"Secondly, he wishes to know how she can heal the disease." He paused for a long moment before continuing. "And thirdly, he wishes you to know that in the fall of this year, he and Gandalf the White will leave Middle- Earth with the Lady of Lothlorien and the hobbit Frodo."

"They will leave," Thranduil repeated. "Then we must hurry. Thank you," he added to Rúnayë. The messenger left.

Thranduil looked at Elizabette. "Do you wish to go to the House of Elrond?" he asked.

Elizabette smiled. "I do indeed, sir."

Thranduil nodded. "You will then depart in three days, if you are strong enough."

Elizabette replied, "I shall be, My Lord."

"I shall arrange an escort," continued the king.

"Father, may I go?" asked Legolas. "It is many years since I was last in Imladris."

Thranduil looked long at his son. Finally he nodded. "Yes, Legolas, you may go." He sighed.

---

Each night the memories crept back, though Elizabette now had more strength to resist. She ate enough and grew stronger.

On the third day after Rúnayë's return, she and Legolas left for Imladris, or Rivendell as it is called in the tongues of men. With them went an escort of ten elves.

After saying farewell to the king, they left. Many looked upon their leaving with sorrow, for without Elizabette the elves would die.

Elizabette rode Súláríl and Legolas Silrocca. Elizabette delighted in the first part of the journey. She enjoyed the long days of riding, wearying though they were, and relished the growing light as they neared the borders of Mirkwood. When they finally emerged from the dark forest, Elizabette had to shade her eyes with her hand. She had forgotten how bright the sunlight was.

None of the other elves fell ill during the journey. Elizabette was glad of this, for she needed all of her strength to continue traveling.

On the fifth day from the palace, Elizabette and Súláríl rode behind Legolas and Silrocca. Around midday Elizabette saw a sharp flash of pain cross the elf's features. Immediately Silrocca stopped and he jumped down. Súláríl stood beside his mother. The other elves behind them slowed and came to a stop.

Silrocca lifted one of her feet and the elf examined the sole. He grimaced in sympathy. Elizabette came over to look.

"What happened?" she asked.

Legolas showed her the foot. A sharp rock was embedded in the tender flesh. He dug it out gently with deft fingers. Silrocca stood still and unmoving as he removed it carefully.

The point of the rock was sticky with blood and the mare's foot bled profusely. Legolas took out his herbs and bandages. He crushed the leaves and gently applied them to the wound. Elizabette helped him wrap the foot in cloth.

At last Legolas turned to the other elves. "Silrocca cannot carry me," he said. "Either we must stop until she is rested or I will walk."

Elizabette asked Súláríl, _Can you carry two people?_

_You mean you and Legolas? Yes. Elves are light._

Elizabette glanced at him. "You can ride behind me," she offered.

Legolas looked over at her. "Are you sure?" he asked in surprise. "Súláríl does not trust me."

Elizabette glanced at the horse. _Súláríl?_ she asked.

_I trust him when you are there also,_ he answered.

Elizabette looked at her friend. "He does not mind," she said.

Legolas grinned. "Hantalë," _(Thank you)_ he said.

After a brief meal they continued. Elizabette had been wearing pants for she had found riding astride more secure and less tiring. Her indigo mantle flowed around her knees. She mounted Súláríl first and Legolas sprang up behind her.

_Súláríl? _ she asked anxiously. _Are we too heavy?_

_No. As I said before, elves are light._

_Lighter than Men? How would you know?_

_My mother told me._

Legolas slipped an arm around her waist to help balance himself. She could cling to Súláríl's shoulders with her knees but he had nothing to grip.

Elizabette stiffened almost imperceptibly and he let go at once. "I am sorry, Elizabette," he apologized instantly.

Elizabette shook her head. "I do not mind," she said, slightly breathless.

"Are you certain?" Legolas asked doubtfully.

Elizabette smiled. "Yes," she replied. "You will want to hold on sometimes... like now!" Súláríl sprang into a canter. Legolas' slender arm encircled her waist again. Her golden- brown hair whipped back, as did Súláríl's long mane. The hood of Legolas' jade- colored cloak blew back and his long blond hair streamed out behind him. He laughed. "Slow down," he called. "We are leaving the others behind!"

Suddenly Súláríl wheeled and ran back toward the others. He whinnied and Elizabette laughed. He stopped beside Silrocca.

_Silrocca?_ Legolas asked. _Can you walk?_

_Yes, cundunya. _

Súláríl turned again and started. The other elves followed and Silrocca walked painfully behind.

Elizabette pulled the hood of her cloak over her curls so that they would not fly in Legolas' face. They led the others for most of the afternoon.

Elizabette enjoyed riding with Legolas. Occasionally he offered her a tip or a correction on her position. Her riding had improved immensely and she felt confident on Súláríl's back.

Legolas enjoyed it also. He was unused to riding a horse that he was not in control of, but he could see easily that Elizabette was secure and would direct Súláríl carefully. He kept an arm around her waist for balance but even in his relaxed state, he was alert for any signs of danger.

---

That evening Legolas sat quietly on his blankets, thinking deeply. Briefly as he had known Elizabette, he felt that though she was often serious, she had another side. Sometimes she pulled down the wall and allowed him to see her different, playful personality, perhaps the personality that she would have had if her parents had lived.

He had realized that she had urged Súláríl to canter that day to cover her embarrassment, and he felt that she knew that he understood.

_Fifteen,_ he thought. _Such a long, long time ago it was that I was fifteen. Yet time seems to run differently in her world, for she appears quite as old as I. Perhaps all of the sorrows that she has passed through have caused her to conceal her emotions. _

-

**Not a particularly happy chapter, a little fluff though:) I just hate this story though, nothing I can do about it. Editing the first few chapters didn't help much. Don't worry though, I _will_ complete it. **

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**Not to advertise or anything:) but I've started another story that's being updated much faster than this one. It's an original fiction, romance, posted at http/ It's getting very little response, and it's lonely :) If you check it out and review, I'll love you forever... please?**

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**And finally, I have a few questions that I'd really appreciate answers to. **

**1. Do you like the way I've portrayed Legolas, and why or why not?**

**2. What do/don't you like about Elizabette?**

**3. Is there anything you'd like to see happen in this story (more explanation of details, more Legolas/Elizabette interaction, more action, less action...)**

**4. What is your favorite chapter so far, and why?**

**Thank you so much for reading. **

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**Thanks for reviewing: **Kichou, Horse lover, Yellow Peanutbutter Ruler, Miriellar (I really appreciate criticism- can you elaborate on the Thranduil thing?), bandgeeks101, Eleniel of the Stars, and Celti Cross.

Navaer Lalaith: Where are you? I miss your criticism :(


	8. Anger and Disturbance

**I think a few people are going to hate me for this chapter. And I'm sorry it's so short.**

**Chapters 8: Danger and Disturbance**

The next morning Silrocca's foot still bled and Elizabette and Legolas both rode upon Súláríl. Legolas noted that Elizabette did not relax the entire day. She remained stiff and tense, as if she were waiting for a warning, a silent horn-call from invisible trumpets. Her eyes darted to any movement in the trees and she kept her hood down so that it would not obscure any sound.

---

Mid afternoon, he asked, "Elizabette, what troubles you? I feel nothing."

Elizabette glanced over her shoulder at him. Her gray eyes were sharp and alert, though their expression softened slightly as they focused on him.

"I do not know," she said, "yet something disturbs my thoughts. Súláríl does not know what it is."

"I feel no danger near," said Legolas.

Elizabette faced forward again. "I do not believe that it is danger."

---

That night, Legolas found that he could not sleep. He lay rigid in the darkness, searching his mind for the thought that troubled him.

Suddenly a dull pain struck his heart. He winced at the pain and the panic that filled his mind. Glancing over to where Elizabette had laid her blankets, he saw that she sat up in the darkness.

"Elizabette?" he asked.

"You felt it?" she replied wearily, her clear voice filled with sadness.

"Yes. What was it?"

Elizabette sighed. "I know not if I should tell you, for it will pain you greatly."

"Elizabette. You know something. You must tell me."

She sighed again. "Legolas, I would shield you from this were it possible." At his frown, she continued, "I shall tell you," she aquiesced, "but again, I say that it will plunge you into despair." She paused and closed her gray eyes. "Legolas, your father has fallen ill."

Legolas sat up. "How do you know?" he demanded.

Elizabette reached out for him, offering comfort. She caught one of his waving hands, but he pulled it away. "It came to me in a dream that this would happen. When I felt the pain, I knew that it had come to pass."

Legolas stood, beginning to pace with astonishing energy. "We must go back," he said. "If we hurry we can save him."

"No. We cannot return. Your father will die. It is meant to be so." She bit her lip as she spoke the words; wincing at his expression.

Legolas seemed not to hear her last words. "Why did you not tell me?" he demanded angrily. "This could have been prevented! I would not have come."

Elizabette sighed. "I did not tell you," she said, "for I did not wish to cause you pain. It is meant to be. You wished, Legolas, to come with me. You said it. I need you. You cannot go back."

"I will return to him."

"You cannot help him," said Elizabette softly. "What could you do? And how could you get there? Silrocca cannot carry you."

Legolas sat down on his blankets. "My father will die," he said, "and I will see him never again. If you had told me I could at least have been with him to the last." His voice resonated with anger, sadness, and above all, pain.

"I am sorry," was all that Elizabette said. She did not reach out, did not try to comfort him. She closed her eyes and slipped into sleep.

---

The next morning Legolas avoided her as they ate and packed up the camp. He made certain to be folding blankets while she was putting away food; to be checking his pack while she saddled horses. The other elves had felt nothing in the night, and did not immediately notice the enmity between them.

_What should I have done?_ Elizabette asked Súláríl.

_You did everything that you could. _

_What do I do now?_

_Wait._

Elizabette sighed at the cryptic message.

Legolas examined Silrocca's foot when he had finished. He looked worried but said nothing. While the others rode he walked beside Silrocca, carrying her packs as well. Elizabette again offered to let him ride behind her but he declined with barely visible anger and contempt. The elf did not speak to her unless he had to. Elizabette spoke little to anyone. The other elves wondered at the change.

Elizabette found that without Legolas' support she succumbed more easily to her pain- filled memories.

---

A day's journey from Imladris, Elizabette asked Legolas to walk with her away from the other elves. He consented reluctantly, disliking her presence.

Elizabette told him, "Legolas, you must not let this ruin the rest of your own life. It was meant to come about and nothing can stop it."

Legolas stopped walking. He stared at her angrily. "Have you any idea what this is to me?" he demanded. "My father is dying, and you tell me to forget. Do you not know that it is impossible?"

Elizabette sighed. "Yes, Legolas, I know what this is to you. Do not forget that it happened to me also."

Legolas stopped short. He had forgotten that in his pain and sorrow. But the ache was still too great. "You were four only, then, as you told me yourself," he said. "You did not care as much as I do, perhaps."

Elizabette's gray eyes blazed with angry fire. "How dare you accuse me of not caring? You are losing only your father! I lost my entire family! How dare you think that since I was young it did not matter? Do not forget that you have not seen your father in his illness. It would cause you such pain that you would want to die with him." Her anger flared sharply but Legolas did not care.

_Careful, Elizabette,_ cautioned Súláríl.

_I do not care,_ she replied sharply.

"Here I am in the wilderness, with my father lying at my home, dying, and I will never see him again. The things that happened to your family are in the past. Can you never forget it? It does not matter anymore."

Elizabette's eyes went wide. She stared at the elf in disbelief. "You tell me that my family does not matter? Are you not grateful for what I have done? If my family had not existed all of the elves in Mirkwood might already be dead. Let them die," she added angrily. She did not wait for a reply but fled back to the camp.

-

**Thank you to everyone who replied to my questions. **

**Most people seemed to think that there should be more action, and also more Legolas/Elizabette interaction. Bad stuff started to happen in this chapter- hehe- and there'll be more next chapter. There should also be more Legolas/Elizabette interaction- they have a few arguments and hang around at Imladris for a bit, and have a cute little moment... yeah. Anyway. **

**In general, you all tend to think that Elizabette's too weak and too 'mary-sueish.' I guess my lead characters do have a tendency to reservedness- Elizabette excessively. When she gets over the 'memories overpowering her mind' stage, she does get a little stronger, but I will try to give her more personality. In this chapter, she actually summoned the nerve to shout- yes!**

**-**

**Legolas. The general feeling seems to be that he's too cliché and changeable. I guess that's the way I imagined him. Since I don't read much Legolas fanfiction, and haven't read a single one for at least two years, I'm not entirely sure what is meant by 'cliché', but assuming that he's in need of more depth of character... I'll work on it. As I've said before, I hate this story and will never write another fanfiction. **

**-**

**I feel like writing responses, so thank you for reviewing:**

**-**

**Kelso Queen Of Genovia: I got your review right after I learned that my riding trainer's selling one of my favorite horses, and it really cheered me up- thanks! I'm glad you like Legolas- I liked him when I wrote it too. **

**-**

**Miriellar: I'm glad you liked the stable scene. I see what you mean about my portrayal of Thranduil- he's not there except when I need him to be. When I wrote it I didn't really give him his own personality. I didn't need him to have one, and I couldn't be bothered. Laziness is one of my unfortunate traits. In the books we didn't see him at all, really, and in the Hobbit he was only an authoratative figure that Bilbo didn't like much, so I decided it was up to the author to give him a role. I didn't. He does have more of a role in this chapter, obviously. Thanks for noticing that. **

**-**

**bandgeeks101: Thanks for offering to review my other story. I appreciate it, you're the only one. Go to and click on 'To Run Away' The actual link was on the last chapter, but it might not have come through. I dunno. You're definitely right about Lizzy's wimpiness, and as I mentioned in my general note, I'll be working on it. **

**My last chapter almost made you cry? I'm proud. **

**-**

**Le phantomet: Thanks. Did you think Lizzy had a better personality _before_ she 'became elf'? **

**-**

**Navaer Lalaith: I hope college goes well. I'm sorry the horse telepathy bothers you. I'm not going to change it, it's something I've contemplated for rather a while, but it's nice to hear your opinion. **

**I've already discussed the Legolas issue. Elizabette- her _name?_ What precisely bothers you about that? **

**-**

**Celtic Cross: Thanks! You're officially my nicest reviewer. Legolas is a bit oblivious, though, isn't he? I kinda like him that way. And I'm glad you like Lizzy- most people apparently don't, but I based her on someone I'm very close to, so... I like her too. And the 'horse/human mind talk' as you termed it, was also an idea that I'd contemplated for a while before finally writing it up. **

**I appreciate your answers. Keep the opinions and ideas coming, they're useful. If you like, since you apparently don't have a account, I can send you an email when I post a chapter. And yes, I did update soon... I think.**

**-**

**Mirkwoods Princess: Thanks!**

**-**

**Yellow Peanutbutter Ruler: Yeah, all the similar answers do get a bit tedious. Yours were a little different, though. Can you maybe specify the difference between movie Legolas and book Legolas? I didn't think they really developed him at all in the movie, which in my opinion didn't do the books justice. And you like the humor? That's good to know. I've actually started another story... that has odd humor popping up even in the serious moments. Most people don't notice it, but maybe you have the same sense of humor as I do... since you noticed my little quips in the beginning of the story. **

**-**

**Jr8action: thanks!**

**-**

**-**

**And, if anyone has any spare time... my other story's still neglected...**


	9. Lord Elrond's Influence

**Seriously. Why am I on the story alerts and favorites pages of _so many people_ who've _never_ reviewed? **

**The link to my other story, which several people have asked about, is on my profile _if it works..._ grr...**

Chapter 9: Lord Elrond's Influence

-

In due time they arrived at Imladris. One of the elf- guards hurried off to fetch Lord Elrond.

He greeted them in the garden. Elizabette curtsied and Legolas bowed. _He looks just like I imagined,_ Elizabette thought.

Elrond led them to his library. There he asked Elizabette to explain who she was and where she had come from.

When she had completed her tale, he nodded slowly. Elizabette had brought along the items from her trunk and she showed him the family tree.

Lord Elrond studied it for a few minutes. "This is correct," he said, "to here." He tapped Elráy's name. "I know not about this-" he tapped Aicamacil and Laurëwen. "Yet that does not mean that it is incorrect. I thought that my brother Elráy was killed in battle. Yet this tells me that that is not true. It surprises me."

Elizabette took the Star of Eärendil out of her pocket. "My Lord," she said, "My father's letter tells me that this necklace was from my grandmother, Celewen."

Elrond looked long at the necklace. "Mithril," he said. He sighed, "I met Celewen only once, at Elráy's wedding. She wore a necklace wrought into the shape of a star. I think that this is the same." He handed it back to Elizabette. "Does this hold the power that you need to heal the disease?"

"Yes, My Lord. When I put it on a power rushes into me and I can heal the disease.

Elrond nodded slowly. After a moment, he turned to Legolas. "I have not seen you since the crowning of King Elessar, Legolas. How do you fare?"

Legolas sighed. "I am fine," he said.

Elrond watched him for a moment, then said, "How did you foresee King Thranduil's illness, Elizabette Elénwen?"

"It came to me in a dream, My Lord," replied Elizabette softly. She glanced at Legolas but he avoided her gaze.

"How many days since he fell ill?" asked Elrond of Legolas.

Legolas' breath caught in his throat. "Four days, My Lord," he answered.

Elrond's face was somber. "Legolas," he said, "I am afraid that you will never see your father alive again."

Legolas glared at Elizabette, who dropped her head into her hands and closed her eyes.

"Yet this is not Elizabette's fault," Elrond continued sternly.

Neither Elizabette nor Legolas moved. After a moment, Elrond nodded to Elizabette. "Thank you," he said. "I had long wondered about the disappearance of my brother. I shall speak with you later."

Elizabette rose and curtsied before leaving. She walked down to the garden and sat on a bench half- concealed by a tall plant.

_Is Legolas correct?_ she asked herself. _Should I have told him before?_

_No,_ came Súláríl's voice. _You were correct. Legolas will realize that. _

Elizabette closed her gray eyes, oblivious to the beauty of the garden.

---

Legolas watched Lord Elrond silently. Elrond was examining the sword that Elizabette had left.

"Do you know where this comes from?" he asked Legolas.

Legolas shook his head. "No, My Lord."

Elrond turned it over. "This is the sword of Eärendil, my father. Long did I wonder where it had gone. This, if nothing else, tells me that Elizabette's tale is true."

He sighed. "If I am correct, you and Elizabette have a disagreement." He looked hard at the elf.

Legolas frowned. "She did not tell me when she dreamed of my father's death."

"What could you have done if you had known?"

"I would have stayed with my father."

"You cannot help him. Only Elizabette has the power."

"Then I would have made her stay."

"Have a care, Legolas. She would not have done so."

Legolas looked up, anger smoldering in his blue eyes. "My father is all that I care about."

"Is that true? Think carefully."

Legolas closed his eyes. After a moment, he said, "It is now. I used to care about Elizabette but I do no longer. She angered me by refusing to return to Mirkwood."

"Are you certain that you care not about her?"

Legolas did not reply.

"You took you anger out on her two days ago," continued Elrond.

"Yes," Legolas admitted, "I did. I regretted it afterwards, but I could not take it back."

Elrond sighed. "Legolas," he said, "I perceive things more clearly than you know. Elizabette did not tell you of this because she did not wish to cause you pain. She was not certain that it would happen. Now you can understand her own pain for her family.

"She needs you, Legolas, and you need her. You have a task to complete- together. Neither of you can complete it alone. If if is not done, the race of elves on Middle- Earth will fail." He stood. "Think on this," he said. "You may go."

---

Elizabette was still sitting in the garden when she heard light approaching footsteps. She looked up. An unfamiliar elf was coming towards her.

"Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you in his library," he told her.

Elizabette returned to the library. She knocked lightly on the door.

"You may enter," came Elrond's voice from within. Elizabette entered and curtsied neatly. She was rather relieved to see that Legolas was gone.

"Yes, My Lord?" she asked.

"You may be seated." He indicated a chair.

As she seated herself, he said, "From your mind I perceive that you hold memories of your early life that torment you. It seems to me that these have been worse than usual since you started to heal the disease."

"Yes. That is true, My Lord."

"And yet, it seems to me also that Legolas has some power that can help you."

"He seems to, My Lord."

Elrond smiled slightly. "You need not be so formal, Elizabette. You are my great- niece, after all."

Elizabette smiled. "You believe my story?"

"I do." He picked up the sword. "This was my father's sword. You would not have had it if you were not some relation to him." He handed it to her. "Keep it. It will be useful."

Elizabette frowned slightly. "Do you know what Legolas' power over me is?"

Elrond nodded. "I do," he said. "But I shall not tell you. You will discover soon enough."

"Does Legolas know?"

"Not yet. He will soon learn." He sighed. "Elizabette, I know that these memories torment you, and I think that their power over you will grow less if you speak of them to someone. I will not press you to tell me, but I wish you to know that you can trust me."

Elizabette said nothing, but she looked long at Elrond. She seemed to be searching for something within him.

"You have Celewen's eyes," he said after a moment. "They were the first thing that I noticed about her."

"I do?" asked Elizabette, surprised.

"Yes," said Elrond with a smile.

After a moment Elizabette nodded slowly. "I shall tell you," she said.

She told him of her last memories of her mother, and of her father. She had been with her father at the moment that he died. She shivered as she told Elrond of this.

When she spoke of Elráy, he listened carefully. A shadow of pain crossed his face as she told him of her grandfather's death.

She spoke of memories that she did not know that she had even retained.

It was a long, pain- filled hour, and afterwards she remembered little of it. When she had told all that she could remember, Elrond stood and embraced her. "You have carried much in your mind for long years, Elizabette," he said. "I think that it has helped you to tell me."

Elizabette nodded slightly. "It has," she said. "Thank you."

When she left, she returned to the garden.

---

Legolas sat in a bench in Elrond's garden. The escort of elves were nowhere to be seen but he expected that they were somewhere nearby, perhaps in the forest. He closed his eyes. Elrond had given him much to think about.

_Am I certain that I do not care about Elizabette?_ he thought. _Should I not care? She has helped my people... But what are they when my father is ill?_

Silrocca broke into his thoughts. _Do not be selfish, cundunya. This had to happen._

_Why?_

_Soon you will understand._ She withdrew and would say no more.

Legolas' thoughts were interrupted by soft footsteps drawing near. He looked up. Elizabette approached, her face wet with tears. When she saw the elf she abruptly turned and headed away.

"Elizabette! Wait!" Legolas called after her. She paused but did not turn.

"Elizabette, come back," he called again. He had felt pain when she left as she saw him.

She turned slowly. "Why should I?" she asked icily.

"Please, Elizabette. I wish to speak with you."

She came over to him hesitantly. "Yes?" she asked.

"Elizabette," he said, "I am sorry. Elrond spoke to me and said that it was not your fault. He has foresight and he knew that this would happen. I am sorry that I said that your family did not matter."

Elizabette looked at him carefully. "Yes," she said after a moment. "I understood why you said that, yet it still cut me."

Legolas rose. "Can you not forgive me?" he pleaded. "I am sorry. I did not mean it."

Elizabette watched him thoughtfully. After a moment, she replied, "You did mean it at the time, but you regret it now. Yes, I can forgive you, for now you do understand."

Legolas nodded. "I understand why your memories tormented you," he said.

Elizabette sat on the bench, pulling Legolas down beside her. "Something troubles you," she said.

"Elrond told me that together we have a task to do," he replied.

Elizabette nodded slowly. "Yes," she said. "I suppose that it is to destroy the source of the disease."

Legolas looked at her in surprise. "Do you think so?" he asked.

Elizabette nodded. "I do," she replied. "I think that the source is somewhere in Mirkwood, as I told you before. We must find it and destroy it forever."

Legolas frowned slightly. "How do we do that?"

Elizabette shook her head, curls sliding on her shoulders. "I know not," she said. "I know only that it is important."

She leaned against him and he slipped an arm around her waist. "I am sorry," she whispered softly.

"Do not be," he replied. "We were both at fault."

---

That evening there was a feast and a celebration. Elizabette saw no occasion but eventually she gathered that these festivities were common in Imladris.

She wore the dress of purple velvet with jewels set into it. She had brought it along. Her golden brown curls contrasted against the soft velvet of the dress.

She sat at the high table near Elrond. Legolas sat a few places away from her. The food was delicious and there seemed to be no end to it. Elizabette spent most of dinner speaking with Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond's sons, who were seated near her. Their conversation was interesting and she learned much.

After the feast, all of the elves went into the Hall of Fire. Elizabette expected singing and storytelling, for she had read about it in the Lord of the Rings, but instead, there was a dance. She sat at a table in a corner, watching the other dancers.

Legolas was nowhere to be seen. She looked at the other people who were not dancing. She watched a tiny man with curly gray hair for a time. She was quite certain that he was not an elf. After a few minutes, she realized who he must be. Bilbo Baggins, the Ring- finder. She was amazed.

_He must be ancient, _ she thought. Súláríl broke into her thoughts.

_Do not be rude,_ he said. _It seems amazing to you that you can see him_, he added in a gentler tone.

_Yes. In my world he is a character in a book. As are Legolas and Elrond,_ she added.

_Am I not in the book?_

_No, I do not think so; you are too young_, she replied.

Súláríl snorted.

---

Legolas sat in the quiet of Silrocca's stall. She lay on the ground beside him.

_What do you think of Imladris?_ he asked. _It has changed since last we were here._

_Yes_, she replied,_ a shadow of sorrow hangs over everyone. Why do you not go to the merrymaking?_ she asked after a moment. _I believe that Elizabette is lonely._

_How do you know that?_

_Would you not be? _After a time, she said, _Legolas, you are glad that Elizabette forgave you._

_Yes. Elrond was correct; I do need her._

Silrocca said,_ You should go to her. She is lonely. Súláríl tells me._

_I shall._ After a moment Legolas stood and left quietly.

He saw Elizabette immediately as he entered the Hall of Fire. She sat at a table in the corner, staring at the wall as if deep in thought. A single curl had slipped over her face and she did indeed appear lonely.

He went over to her and took a chair. "Elizabette," he said softly. "Are you all right?"

She started and turned away from the wall. "I am fine," she replied. She pushed her curls out of her face. Legolas saw that a tear glimmered in her eye.

"Do not cry," he said softly.

Elizabette blinked the tears away. "I did not mean to," she said. "I spoke with Lord Elrond this afternoon. I told him of my memories."

"Do you feel better now that you told him?" Legolas asked quietly.

"Yes. I do." She looked at him with a half- smile on her face.

Legolas looked out at the dancers. "Do you want to dance?" he asked.

Elizabette shrugged. "I do not know how."

"I shall show you." He stood and took her hand. She followed reluctantly.

Legolas led her to a place on the dance floor. He put one hand on Elizabette's waist, and caught her other hand. "Watch the others," he instructed.

Elizabette watched for a moment, then she and Legolas began to dance. Elizabette struggled with the steps for a time but she began to understand until she did not have to think about it.

Elrond watched them with a smile. He was pleased that Legolas had taken his counsel. Elizabette had looked quite lonely. He had figured that she had not really wished to dance, but she appeared to be enjoying herself.

After a few dances, they returned to their table. "Do you know where the horses are?" Elizabette asked Legolas.

"Yes, I was with Silrocca," he replied.

"Can you show me where I can find Súláríl?"

Legolas glanced at her clothes. "Do you not wish to change into something else first?"

Elizabette shrugged. "It takes too long," she replied, smiling. "I shall be careful."

Legolas led her to the stables. _Where are you, Súláríl?_ she asked.

_Turn left,_ he replied. Elizabette saw him looking over his stall door. She held out her hands to him. He nuzzled them gently.

_That is a nice dress,_ he said into her mind.

_Thank you. I shall have to be careful of it._

She opened the stall door and slipped inside. Legolas entered Silrocca's stall, across the aisle.

_Did you enjoy the dance?_ asked Súláríl.

_Yes. It was very interesting. _

_Have you forgiven Legolas completely then?_

_Yes, I believe so. _

_---_

Legolas and Elizabette walked back to the house together. Elizabette felt that now that they understood each other, they had become closer. She felt more safe and secure when Legolas was nearby. He slipped his arm around her waist. She smiled at him.

"Legolas, do you know how much you have helped me?" she asked him softly.

"You have helped me also," he replied. "You have shown me that my father is not the most important thing."

"But he is to you," said Elizabette.

Legolas looked over at her. "Almost," he said. "Not quite."

**-**

**Thanks for reviewing: **

**IwishChan, Navaer Lalaith: **I get where you're coming from with the name, and it makes sense, but I don't personally think that it has that much of an impact on the story, **Yellow Peanutbutter Ruler: **You're right- I never analyzed them that way, but it's totally true. Since I absolutely suck at poetry, my Legolas won't be singing much though... ;) **Celtic Cross, **yeah, they're kinda acting like teenagers, now that I realize it, **meri, Eternal Hopes, bandgeeks101: **The link's on my profile, if it came up... thanks! **Kelso Queen of Genovia, Jr8action. **


	10. Apprehension

The next morning, Elizabette awoke with a feeling of anxiety. The contentment and security of the night before had vanished. She hurried to the dining hall for breakfast.

Legolas was already there. She took the seat next to him. Few people were there and no one protested.

She ate quickly, then went to see Súláríl. He had picked up on her worry and asked,

_Why are you so nervous?_

_Something has happened. The disease gets stronger. We must stop it before more die. _

_When can we depart?_

Elizabette was surprised. _Do you agree with me?_

_Yes. Ask Legolas whether he feels the apprehension. _

Elizabette left to find Legolas. He was in his bedchamber.

"Legolas?" she asked, knocking.

He opened the door. "Elizabette? What is the matter?"

She shivered. "Legolas, the evil powers of the disease are stronger. Something happened and I can sense it."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"We had best speak with Lord Elrond. I will come."

Elizabette waited while Legolas put on his white knife and led the way.

Elrond seemed to have been expecting them. He sat at his desk.

Elizabette curtsied and Legolas bowed. "Be seated," said Elrond.

Legolas glanced at Elizabette as they took their seats. She nodded. "My Lord," she said, "I have felt that something is awry. I believe that something has happened with the disease."

Elrond sighed. "You are correct, Elizabette," he said. "I had felt it also and wondered if you would. The power of the disease has grown. Soon it will overpower us all."

"What must we do?" asked Legolas, though he knew already.

"You must seek the source and destroy it. I shall tell you all that I know, but I do not know much."

Elizabette looked at Legolas. He saw fear in her eyes.

Elrond continued, "We know that it is somewhere in Mirkwood. I also believe that it is in the southern part of the forest, somewhere near Dol Guldur."

Legolas shuddered at the name.

"Yet Mirkwood is a big place," Elrond resumed, "and it would take you many weeks to find it if we had no further information. Fortunately we do. There is a seldom- used road that runs to Dol Guldur. About fifty leagues from the river Anduin, you will come to a fork. The left path will lead to Dol Guldur. The right will lead to a small fortress. There you will find the source of this evil."

"How will we find it?" asked Legolas.

"That I do not know. You shall know when you come to it."

"How do you know this?" asked Elizabette.

"Do not forget that I have foresight and can see many things, my child," he said. "I am sorry that I cannot tell you more."

Elizabette sighed. "How will we stop the evil?" she asked.

Elrond shook his head. "I do not know. You will find a way."

Elizabette again glanced at Legolas but this time he could not read her gaze.

"When should we leave, My Lord?" asked Legolas.

"As soon as possible. I shall have provisions set out for you."

---

When at length they left Elrond's study, Legolas and Elizabette returned to their bedchambers. Elizabette stowed her things in her pack. She laid both it and her sword on her bed.

Legolas knocked lightly on her door. "Are you there, Elizabette?"

"Yes. You can come in."

He entered and took a seat on her bed. "Do you wish to do this?"

Elizabette sighed. "No," she replied. "But I must. If we do not complete this task, the elves will all die. And so will we," she added after a pause.

Legolas' blue gaze caught hers. "What will you do once the task is complete?"

Elizabette looked down. "I know not," she said. "I do not wish to return to my own world. But I still do not feel that I belong here. Everything is so strange to me."

"You could come to Valinor," suggested Legolas.

Elizabette shrugged. "I will decide later," she replied. She sat on the bed next to the elf. "I am frightened," she admitted a minute later. "You have done things more dangerous before, but I have not."

Legolas slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Yes," he said, "but I am also frightened. No other disease has the evil power to kill elves."

Elizabette stared at him, realizing something. There was dull horror in her eyes. "No," she said. "It is not a disease."

Legolas frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Elizabette shuddered. "I just realized it. Have you seen any of the elves after they have died?"

Legolas nodded. "Yes," he said. "I watched the burial."

Elizabette closed her eyes. "It is not a disease," she repeated. "Did you not notice that they bled from every orifice in their heads? This is not a disease. It is some evil power that turns their insides to blood."

Legolas frowned again. "What do you mean?"

"The power... It melts their insides and the blood must escape. That is why they die so soon. They cannot eat because where would the food go? Their stomach is gone."

Legolas stared, beginning to understand but wishing that he did not. "That is horrible," he whispered. "There are no words for this."

Elizabette's eyes filled with tears. "All of that blood..."

Legolas embraced her. "How can we do this?" he asked. "If there is some power that turns insides to blood..."

Elizabette frowned suddenly, realizing something else. "Even though I stopped the progress of the disease... If those elves have no insides, they will die anyway. I know not exactly how much I healed. I have the power to save them if they have only been ill for a few days... But I cannot restore their insides."

Legolas closed his eyes. "Does Lord Elrond know about this?" he asked.

"Yes," said Elizabette. "I think that he does."

"Why did he not tell us?"

Elizabette shuddered. "I think that he did not wish to alarm us." After a moment she asked, "Where are the others that came here with us?"

"I have seen a few of them, and most were at the feast," replied Legolas. "Will we ask them to come with us?"

Elizabette shook her head, golden curls slipping over her face. These revelations frightened her beyond anything that she had felt before. "No," she said. "If they wish to return to Mirkwood they can come so far, but we will not ask them to come to this place, Dol Guldur. We should not tell them what this disease does. Unless I miss my guess, they do not know."

---

They left as soon as they could get enough provisions to last the trip. Six of the elves that had come wished to return to Mirkwood. The others stayed at the House of Elrond.

Elrond said farewell to them in his study. "I see that you have discovered the powers of this evil," he said. Legolas nodded but did not speak. Elizabette did not move. "Know that it will not harm you if only you walk near it. But you must be careful, for if one of you falls ill, the other will not be able to complete the task."

Legolas and Elizabette left with the six other elves. They rode side by side at the front.

Súláríl was horrified to learn of the terrible power. _We must stop this,_ he said. _Think of King Thranduil dying of this._

_I think that that is what Legolas is thinking of,_ replied Elizabette, glancing at the elf's taut face.

_What will you do?_

_About the king? We can do nothing. I cannot help him. It has already been too long. _

---

When they arrived at the river Anduin, Legolas and Elizabette left the rest of the elves. They followed the river southward until they reached the path that Elrond had spoken of.

On the sixth night from Imladris, Legolas sighted the path. Squinting ahead in the dim light, Elizabette saw it also. She looked at Legolas, and he saw that her eyes were filled with fear.

_What should I do?_ he asked Silrocca.

_Are you not frightened also?_

_Well do you know it. _

_You must help her,_ Silrocca replied.

_How?_

_You will discover that soon._

_---_

Legolas dared to light a fire that night at their camp. The trees along the path were sparse, but there were more than they had seen for several days. Elizabette huddled close to the flames, wrapped in her own thoughts. Neither spoke much, concentrating on the task ahead.

As the fire died and they prepared for sleep, Legolas said,

"Elizabette, wear your sword tomorrow. I feel that you may need it."

She nodded mutely. Looking at her expression, Legolas came over to her. "Elizabette? Are you frightened?"

"More than I have ever been before," she replied softly. Legolas knew that she would not admit that to anyone else, save perhaps Elrond.

He sat beside her. She leaned back against him as he put his arm around her back. "So am I," he murmured. "But we can do this. We must."

"Yes," she said, "but I do not see how."

"Perhaps it will come clear as we near it," he said.

"Perhaps." She smiled slightly, feeling contented for the first time in many days. "Legolas," she said. "What do-" She was interrupted by a lone howl, close enough to chill her bones.

Her eyes went wide. She and Legolas sprang to their feet. Legolas drew an arrow and fitted it to his bow with impossible fluid swiftness. After staring into the darkness for a split second, he loosed it. Another howl came, but this one seemed to be of pain rather than menace.

Legolas drew another arrow. "There seem to be no more wolves," he said, "but we must watch. I shall watch first."

"Are you certain?" asked Elizabette.

"Yes. Go to sleep. I shall wake you halfway through the night."

Elizabette lay down and closed her eyes, trying to sleep.

---

When morning finally came, Legolas walked to where the wolves had been. He found no sign of either his arrows or the wolves.

He and Elizabette rode on, but they were wary and had their weapons ready for any danger.

They saw nothing. They reached the fork in the path by mid- afternoon. Riding at a quick trot, they neared the forest.

Elizabette was not anxious to enter the dim forest again. In truth, Legolas was not either. _Anything can come up behind us,_ he thought. _I prefer the open, Wood- elf though I am._

_There is more cover in the forest,_ replied Silrocca. _For both us and our enemies,_ she added after a moment.

---

They saw no sign of any life. Both were unnerved by the silence. No bird calls broke the silence, no squirrels scampered up the trees.

"Legolas," Elizabette said at their camp that evening, "I do not like the quiet. There should be some sound here. I feel as if we were being watched." She stared at the fire as if hoping that an answer would come from it.

"Yes," replied Legolas after a moment, "You are correct. The silence has an unnatural quality. Perhaps we are nearing our destination."

Elizabette sighed. "That should be a good thing," she said. "But it does not comfort me."

Legolas smiled. "No," he said, "but at least our journey is not prolonged. Nírë nat i quamë nauva oat met," he added after a moment.

Elizabette glanced up from the flames. "What did you say?" she inquired.

" 'I hope that the disease will spare us'," he translated softly, looking at her. "Remember what Elrond said..."

" 'If one of you falls ill, the other will not be able to complete the task...' But did he not say that we could not catch the disease by coming near to its source?" asked Elizabette.

"He did," responded Legolas. "Yet, do not forget that the elves in Mirkwood fell ill first... because the source is in Mirkwood."

Elizabette looked up at him. Her gray eyes, now filled with suppressed fear, caught his blue ones. "Legolas?" she asked. "Are you frightened of what happened to your father?"

Legolas nodded slowly. "Yes," he said. "I am also sorry that I shall never see him again." He looked away.

"I am sorry," said Elizabette softly. After a moment, she continued, "Perhaps you were correct. Perhaps I should have told you of my dream."

Legolas looked back at her. "No, I was wrong," he answered. "Even if you had told me, I could have done nothing." He shuddered and blinked quickly.

Elizabette caught the motion, though most would have seen nothing. "Legolas... What will we do now? We are in the forest, and we will soon reach the fortress. What do we do? What _ can_ we do against a power this great?" she asked despairingly.

Legolas shook his head. "I do not know," he said. "All that I know is that we must do it. If we do not, everyone will die."

"What do you think will happen if we do destroy the source?" Elizabette asked thoughtfully. "Will the disease end, or will those that are already ill die anyway?"

Legolas shrugged his shoulders. "I do not know, Elizabette. How can anyone know?"

She looked upward at the stars overhead that sprinkled the sky like diamonds scattered on ebony velvet. "The stars are so bright," she whispered musingly to herself. "So much brighter than at home..."

Legolas' keen ears caught her comment. "Your world is dirty," he said. "The very air is laden with fumes."

"Yes," Elizabette replied, "that is one of the reasons that I like Middle- Earth."

---

**Sorry, sorry sorry it's been so long. I've had four tests in the last two days, two cello lessons, and this afternoon, a very draining audition for Chamber orchestra... and yeah. I've been busy. I don't feel like writing replies, so thanks to:**

**Yellow Peanutbutter Ruler, bandgeeks101**(My fiftieth reviewer!)**, Thepielord, Jenn, Lady Keshanna of the Night, Celtic Cross **(Sorry sorry sorry Amanda: I thought I posted but it turned out I didn't ;)**, IwishChan.**

**If I forgot you, I'm sorry. I've got the feeling that I missed someone...**

**And, anyone who would like email notifications of updates, mention it in your review or send me an email I've noticed that I've been getting a lot of anonymous reviews. **

**And one last thing: Of all the people who put me on their favorites pages, I've only ever received reviews from seven of you... and of author alerts... nine of you. Just drop me a review, will you? I want to know what you think. Even if it's only a couple words. **


	11. Touch of Death

Okay, this chapter is crap. Sorry. Don't read it if you don't want to.. you were warned.

The Touch of Death/ Revealed

The forest seemed to get quieter every hour as they moved closer to the fortress. The feeling of being watched increased. Picking up on the elves' apprehension, Silrocca and Súláríl shied at small things. Elizabette and Legolas did not speak much.

At midday they stopped to eat. Their food supply was beginning to run short. All that they had left were small loaves of bread, baked hard to last, and a small supply of dried fruit. There were no animals to hunt.

Elizabette checked their water- skins. "Legolas," she said, "We are running short of water. Is there a stream nearby where we can find more?"

Legolas thought for a moment. "I do not know," he said. "I have seldom been in this part of the forest. We elves avoid it, for the evil here is stronger."

"Indeed it is," muttered Elizabette. "I do not see how you could have lived here all of your life."

"It was once fair," replied Legolas. "Before the evil creatures came, the forest was a pleasant place. Now it is malignant, though it was cleansed partially, and many of us wish to leave. I shall leave for Valinor when King Elessar dies."

"Is not the rest of Middle- Earth fairer now in the Fourth Age?"

Legolas sighed. "Yes. But Mirkwood now harbors the evil creatures that fled from Mordor and other such lands. As the other lands become cleaner, Mirkwood becomes more foul. My father's power and the power of the elves kept the creatures away from the palace, but even there it is not safe."

Elizabette set away the food and water. "We should be careful with the water," she said. "We shall run out soon."

Late that afternoon, they saw, for the first time, the fortress.

Its blunt point stretched to the sky. Jet windows cut into the side like evil eyes, watching. Elizabette felt that all of the watchfulness came from this foul tower. A stone wall surrounded the tower, and all around it was the great feeling of unsleeping power.

Elizabette bit her lip and turned to the elf. "Will we continue on or wait until tomorrow?"

Legolas stared at the tower. "I do not wish-" His answer stopped as Silrocca shouted in his thoughts, _Something is coming!_

Legolas turned quickly. _What?_ he asked.

Suddenly there was a growl right behind him. Silrocca jumped around as Legolas drew his knife. He slew the creature as another ran up. They were wolves; giant wolves with eyes of fire. They were so large that Legolas barely had to lean over to fight them. He was fortunate that Silrocca was agile and alert, or he would have been killed.

There seemed to be no more. Legolas glanced over at Elizabette. She was looking at her sword with a nauseated expression; she had killed another of the wolves.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

With a great effort, Elizabette pulled herself together. "Yes," she said, wiping her blade then sheathing it, "I am fine."

She glanced around quickly. "The light fades quickly in the forest," she commented.

"I have no desire to sleep near the fortress," responded Legolas. "Shall we go back so that we cannot see it?"

Elizabette shook her head. "I do not know," she said. "What if more of those wolves come?"

"We will watch," said Legolas. To Silrocca he thought,_ Where shall we go?_

_This way._ She turned and walked back the way that they had come.

As they walked, Súláríl asked Elizabette, _What will you do tomorrow?_

_I do not know. We must find the source but I do not know how._

_Elrond said that you would._

_Yes. Perhaps he was wrong._

_Perhaps._

---

They dared not light a fire that night. Smoke could be seen by watchful eyes, and they did not wish to alert anything that would be better left alone. They sat close together, eating their meager meal.

"Something troubles you," observed Legolas softly.

Elizabette looked up. "Many things trouble me," she replied cryptically.

"Do your memories still disturb you?" he asked.

Elizabette shook her head. "No," she responded. "Not very much."

"What were you thinking of?" he asked, looking at her.

Elizabette sighed. "Lord Elrond told me that I have some power over you, as do you over me. He would not tell me what it was. Do you know?"

Legolas' eyebrows creased into a frown. "No," he said. In his thoughts, he asked Silrocca, _Do you know?_

_I may. I am not certain yet._

_Will you tell me?_ he asked, already knowing the answer.

_No. You will discover on your own. _

_---_

Later, Elizabette asked tranquilly, "Shall I watch first? You did last night."

Legolas shrugged. "If you wish," he said. "I will if you want me to."

"I will," she said. "Do you think that the wolves will return?"

"I do not know. Perhaps. Keep your sword ready."

After a moment, Elizabette shivered. "Killing the wolves was terrible. I had never killed anything before."

Legolas put his arm around her shoulders. "Think what the power that controls them has done to us."

Elizabette closed her eyes. "Do you believe that blood should be repaid with blood? My uncle says that 'revenge often rebounds upon its wielder'."

Legolas shook his head. "Usually I do not believe this," he answered. "But in this case, the power is too horrible to leave alone."

"Perhaps." She was silent for a moment. "Can we not speak of other things?"

Legolas smiled slightly. "Why did you name your horse Súláríl? If I interpreted it properly, you wished it to mean 'Fire- spirit'."

"That is correct," replied Elizabette. "I know not why I named him that. It seemed to fit him."

"Did Súláríl tell you the meanings of the words?"

"He told me the Elvish translation of 'spirit'. I knew the word for 'fire'."

"How?"

Elizabette smiled for the first time in several days. "In The Lord of the Rings, Aragorn names his sword _Andúril_, Flame of the West. I assumed that the ending -ril could be translated to mean 'fire'."

"It can be," Legolas replied. "I like the name."

A few minutes later, Elizabette asked, "Legolas, why did you look different in my world than you do here?"

Legolas shrugged. "I do not know," he said. "I think that people age more quickly in your world than in Middle- Earth, for you seem as old as I am and you look older than you did in your world."

Elizabette shook her hair out of her face. "I wonder where Matron came from. She seems not so horrible compared to this power," she said thoughtfully.

After a few minutes, Legolas stared off into the darkness. "South of here lies Eastern Lórien, where the Lord Celeborn dwells still."

"In Mirkwood?"

"In the southern parts."

Later, Legolas curled up in his blankets as Elizabette stood by the fire, watching. She stared into the darkness, her sword on her waist, ready. She could not tell if Legolas was awake or asleep, for like all elves, he slept with his eyes half open.

An hour later, he sat up. "Elizabette," he said, "I cannot rest. Something grows in my mind. I think that my father will die tonight."

Sorrow filled Elizabette's eyes. She knelt near the elf. "Are you certain?" she asked. "I felt nothing."

"Concentrate on it," Legolas suggested. "You have been pushing away any intuitive premonitions with your worry of the fortress."

Elizabette sat down and closed her eyes. After a moment she felt it, sorrow, and pain. "Yes," she said after a moment, "I think that you are correct."

Neither of them slept that night. They waited quietly for the dawn; or what dawn there was in the dim forest. Elizabette sat, wrapped in her blanket, concentrating on her thoughts. Legolas stared into the fire, trying to keep from crying. Elizabette sensed his pain and came to sit beside him. Her presence comforted him slightly.

An hour before dawn, both of them felt a sharp pain in their minds, followed by a slight flash of anger, then relief. Their eyes met. King Thranduil had died.

Legolas' clear eyes filled with tears. _No,_ he thought. _This cannot be happening._

Elizabette wept also. The king had helped her much and she mourned his passing.

They grieved silently. When they could speak again, Elizabette said, "He was relieved to die."

Legolas had also felt the relief. "Yes," he said. "After all that..."

Neither spoke more until dawn.

---

Elizabette at last stood as the forest grew lighter. She took out what food they had left and spread it out. "We have only two days' food left," she said. "What will we do then?"

Legolas sighed heavily. "I do not know," he said. "Perhaps if we destroy the power the animals will return."

Elizabette shrugged her shoulders and handed him a small loaf of bread. She took one for herself. They ate silently. Elizabette watched Legolas. He was hiding his sorrow, steeling himself for the task ahead.

When she had finished her meager provisions, she left the camp for several minutes and returned wearing her jeans. Legolas raised his eyebrows but did not comment. "It will be easier to ride," she explained.

They packed away the food and prepared to depart. "Legolas?" Elizabette asked. "Should we not leave our packs here? It would be easier to fight."

"It would be," said Legolas, "but we may not care to return here. And something could despoil our food if it is not with us."

"That is true," she said. Picking up her pack, she jumped lightly onto Súláríl's back.

Legolas mounted Silrocca and they came up to Elizabette and Súláríl. The horses began to lightly pace toward the fortress.

Elizabette checked her sword surreptitiously. All seemed to be in order. _Do you know what will happen, Súláríl?_ she asked.

_No. But you will meet someone that you did not expect to find here,_ he replied.

_How do you know this?_

_I know. Do not question._

After a moment, he asked, _How did you know that your dream of the King's death was true?_

_Elrond and my father were in the dream. They told me that it would happen. _

_But you did not know Elrond then._

_No. Now I know that it was he._

Elizabette glanced at Legolas. "What do you think will happen?" she asked.

Legolas looked up. "I do not know," he responded. "We may have to fight."

Elizabette frowned. "I hate fighting," she said.

Legolas smiled sadly. "It is a pity that it must be done," he replied. "Perhaps someday all evil will be banished from Middle- Earth."

"I doubt it," muttered Elizabette.

As they neared the fortress they again felt the watchfulness. Elizabette squeezed Súláríl's middle with her knees, nervously awaiting the action. "We must be on our guard," Legolas cautioned as they approached the fortress. "Anything could happen."

Elizabette closed her eyes, trying to relax. She found that she could not.

A quarter of an hour later, they reached the iron gates. They advanced warily. There were no sign of the wolves and they opened the gates carefully.

Both elves winced at the sharp clang that the gate made as it closed fast behind them. Legolas thought,_ Now we are locked in, for better or for worse._

_Is it locked? A_sked Silrocca.

_I do not know, but we have alerted any enemy to our presence, and it may be difficult to get out._

_Tread carefully,_ was all that she said.

Legolas and Elizabette jumped down from the horses. They looked around.

The blunt tower dominated the bleak ground. There were small scrubby brown bushes but nothing was green. A small door in the side wall caught Elizabette's eye. "What do you think is in there?" she asked Legolas.

Legolas glanced at it. "It may be a guardroom," he replied. "It may also be a side entrance, or a storage room. Shall we go see?"

Elizabette nodded reluctantly. "All right," she said. She drew her sword and Legolas his knife. The horses followed them, intelligent dark eyes watching for danger, ears flicking around at the slightest sound.

_Do you sense anything?_ Legolas asked Silrocca.

_No, Legolas, but anything could happen. Be careful._

Elizabette cautiously opened the door. She peered inside. "It looks all right," she whispered to Legolas, who came up beside her. "What should we do?"

Legolas glanced at Silrocca. "The horses will not be able to come inside," he said, "but I think that we should go in. Something tells me the that thing that we are seeking lies here."

Elizabette rubbed Súláríl's forehead gently. _We will go inside,_ she told him. _Will you be safe out here?_

_We will be careful._ Both horses moved away silently, their hooves making little noise on the dusty ground.

With one quick glance at each other, the two elves stepped inside.

The air was damp and a musty smell lingered in the air. They kept close to each other as they looked around.

Elizabette noticed a darker patch in the dim room. She went carefully over to it, her silent feet light on the earthy floor. She saw that it was a staircase.

Legolas came over. "Shall we go down?" he asked.

Elizabette shrugged. "I suppose..."

They headed down. Both were surprised to find that the floor was swimming with a few inches of water.

Elizabette wrinkled her nose in distaste as the dark, murky water touched her leather boots. Legolas made a low noise of disgust.

Elizabette led the way to the next room. Something glowed slightly in the center of the room. She knew immediately that it was what they had been searching for.

_Did you find it?_ Súláríl asked in her mind.

_I think so... That was simple!_

_Do not be too certain yet... Your task is not completed._

Elizabette whispered, "Legolas, I think that this is it." The elf came to stand beside her.

"I believe that you are correct," he whispered back. He leaned closer to examine the instrument.

A thin wire came from the floor and slipped through a hole in a metal cylinder. It stretched to a wooden pole. There it entwined another wire, seemingly made of copper, that extended to the ground. The first wire went on to a round glass ball that radiated with an evil light. The entire contrivance seemed uncomplicated, but it seemed to crackle with power.

Elizabette stared at it for a moment. "Do not touch it," she warned. "I believe that it is electricity."

Legolas' eyebrows creased into a puzzled frown. "Electricity?" he echoed. "What is that?"

Elizabette had learned much about electricity in seventh grade. As she had been interested in the subject, she had asked for some books about it. "Electricity is power made from charged particles," she explained. "They are called electrons. If you touch it, you will get a shock. It can travel along wires because metal is a _conductor_, it allows the particles to travel through it. If a wire is insulated with rubber, you will not get a shock. Glass and fabric are also insulators."

Legolas' expression was still puzzled as he struggled to process the information. "I do not understand," he said.

"If you were to touch one of these wires, that are not insulated, you would get a shock that would probably make you fall unconscious. You would also get a shock if you touched it with a sword or something metal." She stepped over to the source. "This is a ground," she said, pointing to the copper wire. "It grounds the entire structure so that it does not cause a fire." She peered closely at the glass sphere. "If you wished to," she said to Legolas, "you could touch this because glass is an insulator. It stops the movement of the electrons so they cannot shock you." She frowned and muttered, "It seems that this is sending out some type of radioactive waves. But I cannot think of anything that would harm only the elves. It does not make sense. The electricity is powering it, and the reason that the disease gets stronger is that the source of the power becomes stronger. I wonder what it is being powered with."

"How is electricity normally produced?" Legolas asked.

Elizabette thought for a moment. "Often with coal that powers a turbine," she replied. "That is partly why my world is so dirty."

"Could there not be a coal fire below here then?" Legolas asked.

"There might be." She pointed to the sphere. "If we were to smash this," she said, "The electricity would kill us. We are standing in water, which is a conductor. If any leaked onto the floor, it would get us. We are wearing leather boots, which would help protect us, but I would prefer not to risk it." She paused for a moment, deep in thought. "If we were to break the wire, it would stop the radio waves. But I do not know what effect it would have on the rest of the system. And what would we use to break the wire? If we were to use a sword or a knife, we would get a shock. Both have metal on the handle."

Legolas frowned. "Elizabette? These- _radioactive waves_? Do they harm us more if we are closer to them?"

Elizabette considered. "I do not know," she replied. "I did not study radioactive substances. It is unsafe to be near them for long, but other than that, I know nothing. We should leave as soon as possible."

Legolas looked worried. "How can we destroy this then? We do not want to die from the disease."

Elizabette frowned in puzzlement. "I am not certain... If we were to put out the fire, if there is one, it would stop the circula-"

She was interrupted by an evil chuckle. "Right you are, my dear. But you were always a smart one."

Elizabette and Legolas whirled around. Matron stood behind them.

They had been concentrating on the source so hard that they had not heard anyone come up. Elizabette held her sword in a neutral position; non- threatening but ready for action.

Legolas drew his knife. They stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting.

"How did you get here?" Elizabette demanded vehemently.

Matron smiled. "I am not who I appear to be," she replied. "Your friend would recognize my true form. And... ah. Perhaps you would, too. It has been many years... but I enjoyed our time together."

Elizabette's gaze flicked to Legolas. He shrugged slightly.

"Now," said Matron, "You have achieved much, Elizabette Elénwen Allan." She smiled at Elizabette's angry surprise. "You and your family have long tormented my line. Now the debt will be paid."

"What have we done to you?" asked Elizabette. There was fear in her voice, but there was also a note of pride.

"Your family, my dear, aided in the destroyal of my master. You have long harassed my line, the Line of the Black Númenóreans."

"Your master?" Elizabette's voice was barely audible. Legolas, glancing at her face, saw a mixture of suspicion and pure terror.

Matron's voice seemed to grow. "My master." She tore off her wig. Beneath her hair was long and dark. Her clothes seemed to the elves to be suddenly not a black dress but a long jet robe. Her face turned into that of a man's, but no ordinary man. It was dark with cruel power, power hungering to kill.

Elizabette shrieked and jumped back, seeming to fight an instinct to run. She reached out for Legolas, who caught her hand and held it tightly.

"Behold!" shouted the person who Elizabette had known as Matron. "I am not Matron, the leader of the orphanage. I am far more powerful." He stared at Legolas with evil eyes. "Do you know who I am, young prince?"

"The Lieutenant of the Black Tower," whispered Legolas. "The Mouth of Sauron."

"Right you are, Legolas of Mirkwood," the Lieutenant said mockingly. "Long have I desired this moment. You may tell your father that I enjoyed his forest as a hiding- place for my weapons."

Elizabette felt Legolas stiffen with anger.

The Lieutenant laughed cruelly. He glanced at the elf, enjoying Legolas' expression. "Ah, I had forgotten," he said. "Your father is dead. I have killed him." His mocking laughter rang in the bare chamber.

Then, looking at Elizabette, he said, "And you? Do you recognise me?"

Elizabette seemed to be speechless with horror. Legolas slipped an arm around her waist, wondering what had frightened her so deeply. She managed to say, "You keep away from me!"

The Lieutenant laughed agtain. His cruel, grating mirth echoed in the bare chamber. "I will kill you to avenge my family. But first, you shall suffer." He glanced at Legolas. "You will watch Legolas die."

Elizabette pointed her sword forward with a movement quicker than sight. "Do not touch us," she snapped fiercely, her voice coiled tightly with anger and fear.

The Lieutenant laughed softly. "It will be a hard lesson to learn, Miss Allan," he said. "You have always had your pride. It took you many long hours to surrender." His face hardened. "Now, lower your sword."

Elizabette did not move. "Never," she hissed softly.

The Lieutenant drew the curved red knife. He slashed suddenly at Elizabette's blade. She retaliated, slicing at his hand. He cried out and sprang forward. She parried the blow with her white sword, backslashing quickly. The Lieutenant stepped back a pace, face contorted with anger. Then he dove forward and managed to cut her hand. It stung but the knife did not go deep.

Elizabette's insides burned with rage, smothering her fear. This man, if man he could be called, had murdered her parents, her entire family, as well as King Thranduil, and to her- she couldn't think about it. She would have been ready to stab the Lieutenant to death, but her uncle's word rang in her thoughts.

_Revenge often rebounds upon its wielder..._

Elizabette's anger was pushed aside as she considered the words. They had a great meaning for her, for each time that she had become angry at Legolas, she had taken revenge upon him- in words instead of actions.

She was certain that her uncle had meant the words for those situations, but she knew not what he would have wished for her to do now. If she killed this man, as she must, for the safety of everyone, would she be taking revenge? Not for herself only, but also for her family?

_No._ Elizabette was not certain if it had been Súláríl's voice or that of her own conscience. An idea formed in her head. Suddenly decided, she caught Legolas' glance. She glanced pointedly at the knife in his hand, then at the Lieutenant, then back at his face. He looked carefully for a moment, as he understood. Then Elizabette raised her eyebrows quickly, closed her eyes for a moment, and glanced again at the knife and the Lieutenant, shaking her head slightly. Legolas frowned, not understanding. She repeated the sequence. Then he understood.

_She wishes for me to fight the Lieutenant,_ he realized,_ but not to kill him. _

Elizabette nodded quickly at him. The Lieutenant, busy with his wound, seemed not to have noticed their silent conversation. Legolas sprang forward, slashing quickly with his knife.

Elizabette swung her pack off of her back, rummaging in it quickly until she found what she was looking for. The wooden box with the heavy brown stone inside it. The Lieutenant looked at her quickly but Legolas distracted him by slashing at his face.

Elizabette looked carefully and threw the rock at the thin wire between the cylinder and the wooden post. As it hit the silvery wire, time seemed to slow.

The fine wire snapped with a shower of sparks. Elizabette smiled slightly. The cylinder and the wooden post held the wires from falling into the water. The rock hit the water with a splash.

The Lieutenant's attention had snapped to his cruel device, now partially destroyed. He had not been watching Legolas, and the elf sliced his hand again.

A low howl was torn from the Lieutenant. He drew up his knife and slashed at Legolas. The elf did not duck quite quickly enough and the knife cut his cheek.

He did not cry out but retaliated. The Lieutenant had to duck quickly.

Elizabette looked quickly back at the apparatus. She picked up the wet rock and this time, aimed for the glass ball.

"Watch out, Legolas," she screamed as it shattered into myriads of pieces. She felt the power from the ball rush by her as it dissipated into the air.

The elf covered his face. The Lieutenant turned away quickly to avoid the sharp shards of glass.

Elizabette sighed in relief as the sense of the crackling power vanished. The glass settled into the water. Legolas turned and came over to her. "You did it," he said, taking her hands gently.

"We did it," she replied softly. "Are you all right?"

Legolas touched the cut on his cheek carefully. "It is not deep," he said, "nor does it bleed much. It will heal quickly." He looked at the cut on her hand. "Does it hurt?"

"Not very much." She smiled.

Legolas frowned slightly and glanced pointedly at the Lieutenant, who was watching them closely.

Elizabette smiled slightly. "We will give him a little of his own medicine," she said softly, so that the Lieutenant, who did not possess elf- ears, could not hear.

Legolas raised his eyebrows.

"Be ready to get out of the way," she continued quietly. She looked up into his face. Legolas saw that there was a slight smile in the gray depths of her eyes.

Elizabette's eyes flicked from Legolas' to the now broken electrical device. "Now!" she whispered to Legolas, springing toward the silver wire that she had broken. She pulled a piece of leather from her pocket and wrapped it around the wire. Seizing it tightly, she jerked it roughly away from the pole and the cylinder. She darted toward the Lieutenant. Before he had time to react, the wire touched his hand and sent a shock through his body.

Elizabette expected him to pass out; but instead, he faded. Legolas stepped over to Elizabette and took her hand. They stood together as the Lieutenant dissipated and his form vanished. A slight sigh seemed to come from him as he at last died.

The last of the power dissipated with the Lieutenant.The last remnant of Sauron's evil was gone. Elizabette touched the wire warily. It was cold and lifeless.

Elizabette picked up her sword and her pack. Legolas wiped his knife and sheathed it. Together they left the dark chamber.

---

When they emerged into the forest again, even the dim light seemed too bright. Silrocca and Súláríl came over to them, nickering softly. Elizabette rubbed Súláríl's forehead lightly.

_Are you all right? _ he asked.

_Yes. I did not get hurt except for a scratch from the wires and a small cut when I fought the Lieutenant. _

_Is he dead then? _ Súláríl asked.

_Yes, we killed him with his own power. _

Legolas glanced at the tower.

"What do you think is in there?" he asked.

Elizabette looked at it thoughtfully. "I think that that is where the Lieutenant lived," she said. "Shall we go in to see? I do not sense that there is anything evil here."

Legolas nodded. "I agree," he replied. They went up to the doors.

Elizabette opened the door and peered inside. A staircase rose straight up.

Legolas climbed the stairs, and after a moment, she followed. At the top was a small room with a bed and a desk. "This is where he slept," she guessed.

"There is another staircase," Legolas pointed out.

This was the last one. The tower was not as big as it had seemed. The room was small and rather bare, with a few chairs and a shelf of books.

Elizabette took one of the books from the shelf and flipped it open. Legolas came to look over her shoulder.

"I cannot read this," she said.

"It is the Black Speech of Mordor," replied Legolas. "I cannot read it either."

Elizabette closed the book and slipped it back onto the shelf. "There is nothing of value here," she said. "Perhaps the Lieutenant had another place where he lived."

"Perhaps. But he was mad with evil. He may have cared only to kill."

Elizabette shuddered. "Let us leave this horrible place," she said.

Súláríl asked, _Is there anything interesting in the tower?_

_No. It is rather bare. There are a few books written in Black Speech, but we cannot read them._

_Perhaps you would not want to, even if you could understand the language._

Elizabette smiled slightly. _Perhaps,_ she acknowledged.

They emerged into the outside forest. Súláríl was waiting. Silrocca was a few paces behind him.

She said into Legolas' mind, _Legolas, do you not think that it is strange that there are no other evil creatures here?_

_Yes. But I think that the Lieutenant was first trying to kill all of the elves before waging war, because the other free peoples would then have little chance of victory._

_That is true._

Elizabette looked around at Legolas. "Shall we go?" she asked. "I do not think that there is anything else here."

Legolas looked around. "Elizabette?" he asked suddenly. "Is that yours?" Elizabette came over to look. On the ground was a piece of silvery metal wrought into the likeness of a star.

She reached into her pocket. "No," she replied, pulling out the Star of Eärendil. "This is mine."

Legolas picked the other one from the dirt. It was quite similar, though it had no chain. Elizabette compared it to hers. "That is not mine," she said, "though it looks much the same."

"I wonder where it may come from," Legolas said. "Perhaps the Lieutenant stole it from you when he was pretending to be Matron."

"Perhaps," Elizabette replied. Unclasping her necklace, she threaded the other star onto it also. "Perhaps we can discover where it came from."

Legolas seemed not to have heard. He was staring at the tower with anger on his face.

Elizabette guessed what he was thinking of. "Legolas," she said, "I am sorry about your father. I hoped that we could stop the disease before he died."

Legolas turned. "So did I," he replied softly. He caught her hands. "Elizabette..." he said. He leaned forward and kissed her softly. Then he drew back and waited for her reaction.

For a moment Elizabette stood, surprised. Then as she realized something, a slow smile spread over her face. _Legolas' power over me... and mine over him... is love._

Elizabette looked up into Legolas' blue eyes. She smiled and kissed him back, and, hand in hand, they left that place.

---

They returned to the place that they had camped the night before. Both of them felt that the danger and watchfulness in the forest had lessened. Legolas managed to shoot a squirrel with his bow and they roasted it over their fire. They relished the fresh meat after several days of bread and dried fruit.

"How did this electricity kill the Lieutenant?" Legolas asked later.

Elizabette sighed. "I did not know that it would," she said. "I thought that it would only make him unconscious."

Legolas sensed her discontent. "Elizabette," he said softly, "the Lieutenant was dangerous. If he had lived, he would have conceived another plot to ruin Middle- Earth."

"Yes," Elizabette replied, "but in my world, to kill someone else is considered murder. People are jailed for manslaughter. It is a crime. In Middle- Earth, killing is... tolerated."

"What does jailed mean?" Legolas asked curiously.

Elizabette sighed pensively. "Basically, thrown in a dungeon, although most jails are not underground."

"I am sorry," said Legolas, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I understand your feelings for taking another's life, however. I felt much the same the first time that I was in a war."

Elizabette smiled slightly. "To answer your question," she said, "Electricity is a force. It is commonly used in my world. We use it to power lights. No one uses candles or torches. Anyone who touches it will receive a shock from the power, though they will not always die. Some people put electrical fences around gardens or buildings to keep animals away. It does not harm the animals much but they learn to avoid it."

"That is cruel," said Legolas.

Elizabette shrugged her shoulders. "It is," she answered, "but it works."

"How could the power penetrate to your world?" Legolas wondered after a moment.

Elizabette shrugged. "I think that the power had intensity enough to permeate all worlds."

"What _was_ the power that was causing the disease?" Legolas asked.

"That," said Elizabette softly, "I do not think that we will ever be able to understand."

-

Yes. Crap. Sorry. I wrote it two years ago... can't be bothered to edit it... it needs waayyy too much work.

I wasn't going to update... but I was so thrilled that I got into the chamber orchestra... that I've been working towards for about six months(!)... that I decided to post it.

Thanks for reviewing. I've gotta go to sleep- no time for responses. I seriously love you all though.

**Elven Fate: Sorry, but that's not true- 'Legolas' actually means 'Greenleaf'. He's called 'Legolas Thranduilion' which means, "Greenleaf, son of Thranduil."**

**Thanks for reviewing.**

I seem to have lost a number of readers, probably because of school, although I've gained a few more. I expect to lose a few over this disgustingly awful chapter... but please review, even just to tell me how crappy you thought it was.


	12. The End or Not

**Right, um... sorry. I posted on the wrong story, as I'm sure you figured out... two documents titled '12'... here it is. **

Legolas and Elizabette headed northward again, toward the kingdom of the Silvan elves. They had little food left, and hardly any water. Legolas shot several squirrels for meat, but they were running short of water. They drank sparingly.

They retraced their steps back to Anduin before going northward again. There they filled their water- skins and allowed the horses to drink.

On the fourth day after the death of the Lieutenant, they reached the path that led to the palace.

_Elizabette_, Súláríl said later,_ what will you do now that the Lieutenant is gone? Will you return to your own world? Or will you stay here?_

_I do not know,_ she replied. _For now I will stay here with Legolas. But I do not know what I will do when he goes to Valinor. _

_Will you go with him?_

_Perhaps. But I still do not feel that I really belong in this world._

That night, in camp, Legolas asked her the same question.

"I do not know," she sighed. "I do not belong in this world, and yet I never felt that I belonged in my own. Were I to return to my own world, provided that I could find a way, I would be only fifteen and still in the orphanage." She stared into the flames as if wishing that they held an answer. Suddenly she looked up. "What will _you_ do?" she asked. "Are you king now that your father is gone?"

Legolas frowned. "I know not," he said. "I have no desire to be king."

"You are crown prince, are you not?"

"Yes." He seemed uncomfortable so Elizabette said nothing more on the subject .

After a moment, Elizabette asked, "Legolas? Are you going to Valinor?"

Legolas sighed. "Yes," he replied, "but not until Aragorn dies. I will not leave him."

Elizabette frowned but said nothing.

After a moment, Legolas said, "Elizabette, you did what you had to. If the Lieutenant had lived, he would have killed us all."

Elizabette sighed. "I know," she said, "and yet I did not even mean to kill him. Perhaps if I had it would not be so hard for me."

Legolas smiled slightly. "The one good thing that he did," he said softly, "was to bring us together." He kissed her gently.

Elizabette smiled also. "Yes, perhaps," she replied, "yet I cannot believe that anyone could do only one good thing in a lifetime." She leaned back against him.

---

When they reached the palace at last, they were admitted with surprise. It seemed that many of the elves had believed that they had died. Elizabette and Legolas led their horses to the stables and then went into the palace. The elf that Elizabette had seen reading a scroll on her first day in Middle- Earth waited for them in the throne room. He sat at the same desk as he had that first day. His name was Palírin.

"Legolas, Lady Elénwen," he said sadly, "King Thranduil is dead."

Legolas nodded somberly. "We felt his death several days ago," he said. "Have you buried him?"

Palírin nodded. "Yes. We did not know that you would return." After a moment, he added, "No more have fallen ill."

Elizabette glanced at Legolas. He told Palírin, "No, the source of the disease is destroyed."

Palírin was clearly surprised. Legolas explained what had happened.

When he was finished, Palírin said, "Will you now be our king?"

Legolas closed his eyes. "I have no desire to be king," he answered. "I will leave for Valinor soon at any rate. Let us be a free people until then."

Palírin nodded slightly. "As you wish, Legolas, though this will indeed be different."

"Legolas," said Elizabette softly. Both elves looked at her. "If there is no leader, the people will have no way to turn. Someone must lead."

Legolas sighed after considering. "Yes, Elizabette, you are correct, though I do not like the idea. I do not wish to be king."

Palírin nodded slowly. "Do not be king, then, but be the leader who people can turn to in times of distress."

"All right," said Legolas at last. "I will lead."

---

The elves that had been ill when they had killed the Lieutenant recovered slowly. Elizabette found that she could heal them and it took little strength. No others fell ill.

Many elves were interested in Legolas' decision to turn down the kingship. This made him uneasy. Most seemed to think that he should rule. Others thought that they should appoint someone from outside the royal family. Elizabette agreed with his decision, however, and reassured him.

"You did right," she said. "They will become accustomed to it in time. If you do not wish to be king, you should not be."

---

Legolas tapped lightly on Elizabette's door. "Elizabette?" he inquired.

There was no response. He tried again? "Elizabette? Are you there?"

"Yes." The answer was short and seemed to have a weary sigh in it.

"May I enter?"

"If you want to."

Legolas nudged the door open. Elizabette sat on a chair by the window, her arms folded on the window- ledge. Legolas fully expected to see her eyes glazed with tears, but their gaze was focused into a furious glare, directed at the dreary rain.

He slid into a chair next to her. "What is awry?" he asked.

She turned away from the window with a last austere frown. Her gaze softened slightly as it rested on his face. "I hate rain," she said.

Legolas was genuinely surprised. "You've never mentioned it before," he said. "It rained several times while we were camping in the open."

Elizabette shrugged. "I didn't bother to say so," she replied. "The mission was more important."

"What is wrong with rain? We need it," Legolas reasoned.

Elizabette looked away. "I just don't like it. It's so depressing, making the world seem dreary and dim. The sheets of rain fall harder in the open, but here in the forest it merely drips, hour after hour."

"Don't watch it then," Legolas suggested with a hint of a smile.

Elizabette turned away from the window. Legolas slipped an arm around her shoulders, letting her lean her head against his chest.

---

Three weeks after their return, Legolas knocked lightly on Elizabette's door. "Come in," she replied.

He entered. His face was grave. "Elizabette," he said, "I have received word that King Elessar is dying. I will go to him."

Elizabette stood. "When did you receive word?" she asked.

"A messenger just arrived. I will leave before the nightfall."

"I will come," said Elizabette.

---

They left at dusk. Fourteen other elves had come, Palírin and Duinral the guard included. The party was silent as they rode.

The journey took a fortnight. When they finally reached Gondor, Queen Arwen greeted them sorrowfully. Aragorn had died. His son, Eldarion, had taken the throne, as Aragorn had wished.

They went to the House of the Kings, and there Elizabette beheld King Elessar. He lay on his long bed in the silent house, and had passed from the endless circles of the world, the gift of men. All who beheld him saw that in him rested the great peace and honor of the Kings of Old.

Legolas and all those elves who had known him wept. Elizabette wept also for she had read of Aragorn, and of him giving up his life.

Some of the Wood- elves dwelt in Ithilien. Legolas had brought them there. He had lived there for a time before returning to Mirkwood. All the elves from Mirkwood went to see them. Ithilien was again a fair place and its green forests rang with Elvish laughter, though there was less in light of King Elessar's death.

---

Elizabette and Legolas and the other Wood- elves went to Imladris before returning to Mirkwood. Lord Elrond greeted them there. It seemed that he had been expecting them, though he had not gone to Gondor.

He spoke with Elizabette and Legolas in his study as before.

"You have done well," he said. "The land is free from another evil, though none of the elves will remain here long to enjoy it. I will leave soon; then most of the others will follow. This is an age of men."

He looked at Elizabette. "What happened, Elizabette?" he asked. "I know a little but desire to learn more."

Elizabette told him of the fight, and of the electrical power. It was clear to her that Elrond did not understand the electricity; to the elves it was as foreign as the dresses had been to her.

"I took the wire," she sighed, "and touched it to his hand. I expected that it would give him a shock, as indeed it should have, but instead he dissolved and the power dissolved with him." She frowned slightly. "He must have learned about electricity when he was in my world, for no one uses it here."

Elrond nodded slowly. "Perhaps the shock of the electricity was so strong that it forced him to dissolve," he suggested. "The only thing that kept that man from dying was the intense evil powers within him. Do not fear, my child, no punishment will come to you from this."

Elizabette closed her eyes. "The memory haunts me," she said.

Elrond smiled sadly. "Sometimes we must do things that we regret, though they may be the correct thing to do."

Legolas glanced at Elizabette. She did not appear entirely pleased with this idea, but she seemed to file it away in her mind for later perusal. After a moment, she drew the mithril chain with the two Stars of Eärendil out of her pocket. She held it out to Elrond. "Legolas found another star," she told him.

Elrond looked at Legolas with surprise. "Where did you find it?"

"In the sand near the fortress tower," he replied. "I would not have seen it if it had not glinted in a rare shaft of sunlight that filtered through the trees." He and Elizabette exchanged a fleeting glance, both remembering well what had followed.

Lord Elrond looked carefully at the two stars. "This is interesting," he said. "Your father did not mention that there were two?" He directed his question at Elizabette.

"No," Elizabette replied. "He wrote only of one."

Elrond frowned slightly. "I do not know why this one was at the fortress," he said. "Perhaps you will discover someday where it came from."

---

Elizabette sat in the garden later that afternoon. She looked out at the few flowers that were left; late summer flowers, and at the trees that were beginning to change into their autumn colors.

Legolas found her there. He sat beside her on the bench. "Elizabette? Is something wrong?"

Elizabette glanced at him swiftly then looked at the flowers again. "I do not know if I should tell you," she replied. After a moment she continued flatly, "I had thought of returning to my own world."

Legolas' eyebrows flickered upward quickly in surprise. _Silrocca?_ he asked.

_Yes, cundunya?_

_Were you listening?_

_Yes. But she is not finished speaking._

Legolas waited silently for Elizabette to continue.

"And yet," she said, staring out into the garden, "I do not see how I can leave Middle- Earth, though it has bad places, for even they are cleaner than my own world. The pollution at home will get worse and worse until no one can breathe the air." She looked up at him suddenly, a half- smile in her eyes. "And I do not wish to leave you."

Legolas realized suddenly what had been missing from her eyes for days. The laughter. A shred of it had returned- and perhaps more would follow. "Will you come with me to Valinor?" he asked.

"I will," she replied and he kissed her gently.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTE PLEASE READ: Right. There is rather more to the story, but I don't know whether or not I want to continue it. Questions that are answered in the next few chapters: Should Lizzy go back to her former world? Can she fight? Does she trust Legolas? Do they go to Valinor? I could just tack on an epilogue, because the next three or so chapters aren't meant to really be chapters... they're only a page or two long each and are supposed to stand alone. Also, when this was originally written, there were three endings- a happy one, a depressing one that eventually turns pretty happy, and one that I never really worked on much. Do you want another plot twist, or should I just end it and quit torturing you with my hideous fanfiction attempts? **

**--**

**In truth, I really only update this story when I want some warm fuzzy reviews... although I had a really good day today. But now I'm rushing off to orchestra practice, in our overrated and underfunded orchestra... with no violists and no bass. Lovely. And I was _this close_ to getting to go the Fall Out Boy concert... and then tickets sold out just as my mom finally gave me permission...**

**Grr. Sorry. **

**--**

**And if this is indeed the last chapter (depending how reviews turn out) I probably won't be back... so... thanks to everyone who has ever reviewed this story, and thanks even to you lurkers who read and never review... It's been great. **

**Thanks to: Kelso Queen of Genovia, megan** (wow, thanks!), **Rhennan: **(You're the kind of reviewer I love, and try to be. Most critiquers (not a word, whatever) just write the critique and sign off, but your review left me feeling pleased. I've heard that complaint from a couple people, and although I totally see your point and agree, I'm not going to do much to change it because, firstly, I don't like this story anymore, and, secondly, I'm putting all my effort into my other story. Also, I _am _a teenager, and therefore write teenager-like people... I guess:) So yeah. It's an okay story, I guess, and I intend to keep posting it, but... I appreciate your review. Thanks.), **Celtic Cross, The Lady Romance, IwishChan, Fiona McKinnon, sweet as lemonz, Lady Keshanna of the Night. **

**-**

**And finally... before I go away... even if I don't come back to ff, there's always my work on **


	13. Epilogue Part I

They sat together in the secluded corner of the garden for a time, enjoying each other's company. The sky was a clear azure blue, stretching on forever and beyond, and the birds sang in pure joy of the beautiful day. The multitude of flowers nearby cast a sweet scent to the air, and the leaves of the trees rustled pleasantly in the soft breeze. Elizabette kissed Legolas and he slipped an arm around her, holding her close and feeling the warmth of her body. --- After dinner, he held out a hand and she took it.

"Shall we go for a walk?" she suggested.

Legolas nodded. "To the shores."

The walk to the shores of Valinor was fairly short; for the elves dwelt near the sea. They had crossed a large part of the island when arriving, and were at the side furthest from Middle- Earth.

The soft moonlight shone down, illuminating the white-capped crests of the gently lapping waves and making Legolas' light hair shine. The stars above pierced the blackness like diamonds scattered on ebony velvet. They paused on the wide white sands, and looked into each other's eyes.

Elizabette's eyes were frightened. She was afraid of him, for him, because of him.

"What is wrong, Elizabette?" he asked softly.

She shook her head and looked away. "I doubt myself," she replied. "Not for the first time, yet for a different reason." She looked into his eyes and saw that he did not understand. She tried to explain her reservations. "Who am I to be doing this?" she asked him. "You are a prince, a noble. I should have kept my distance long ago."

Legolas did not move but he waited for her to elaborate.

"If I had stayed away, this would never have happened."

Legolas' voice was so soft that she nearly missed his words. "Do you wish it had been otherwise?"

Elizabette sighed. "I do not know," she said. "Before today I desired to be near you and relished the time we spent alone together. But since this morning I have been thinking, and I do not know if I have done right."

Legolas said nothing for a time. He looked up at the stars. Then he stepped back. "I will leave then," he said.

Elizabette's eyes widened, filled with a pain Legolas could not endure. She caught his arm. "No," she whispered. "Please, Legolas."

He paused. His eyes had darkened to steel gray instead of the usual clear blue, a sign, she knew, that he was upset. Slowly, he turned to face her.

"I do not know what to think," she whispered, still clutching his sleeve. "I fear I have done wrong, but I cannot tear you from my heart. Never before have I felt so confused."

Legolas paused, wondering what the results would be if he did as his heart bid him, but as tears began to fall from Elizabette's eyes, he submitted to his instinct and stepped forward. He drew his arms around her and she pressed her face into his chest, inhaling the soft scent that lingered around him. Her tears dampened his tunic. He could feel the tension in her body, and he knew that she was still nervous. After a time she yielded to him, and began to relax under his gentle fingertips. Hesitantly she brushed her lips against his. He returned her kiss and she closed her eyes. A soft sigh escaped her lips and she rested her head on his shoulder. He smiled slightly, looking up at the clear sky. It was the first time that they had been alone together since the turmoil of events of the morning.

"Do you trust me, Elizabette?" As soon as the question left his lips he wished he could pull it back. He was afraid to know her answer.

She looked up again. Her gray eyes, now empty of fear, mirrored the starlight.

_Do you trust me, Elizabette? _

Did she? Truly? Did she trust him with her life and her fears and her joys?

Had he ever tried to hurt her? _Yes, but only in anger._

Had she forgiven him for that?

_Do you trust me, Elizabette?_

Did she trust anyone else? Entirely? _Elrond. _

_Do you trust me, Elizabette?_

"Yes," she whispered softly at last, "Yes, Legolas, I trust you."

Legolas had not anticipated that as her answer. She had a complex soul, sometimes present, sometimes remote, unique and intangible. Yet other times she relied on him, or on Elrond. Her eyes told the truth.

_What had he anticipated?_ He did not know. It seemed a great burden, to have the complete trust of someone so elusive and sensitive, so free and so alone. Sometimes her emotions were beyond his grasp, but other times they understood each other perfectly. Sometimes she seemed to not be present at all, and he wondered if she were merely a dream.

Still, he knew that he could break her trust with a single word, and he was careful, as he always was.

"Legolas?" She was looking at him with a worried cast to her eyes.

He smiled reassuringly. "It's all right. I was simply surprised."

"Why? Have you ever given me a reason not to trust you?"

Legolas considered. "I don't know. I hope not."

She pressed her soft lips against his, cutting off the rest of his reply.

Legolas tightened his hold on her, rubbing her back softly with gentle fingers. She rested her head on his shoulder. Neither knew how long they stood there but they were wrapped in a time of which only they mattered.

Legolas felt her tremble and she buried her face into his shoulder, clinging to him. He held her tightly as they stood silently.

After a time she again relaxed in his arms. She pressed her lips against his, and they both savored the contact. Elizabette's long hair blew lightly in a soft breath from the sea.

They were at peace that night, despite the earlier happenings. Legolas could feel Elizabette's soft breath on his neck as they stood in each other's embrace. She pressed herself against his chest, drinking in his warmth and the soft smell of his body, like needles in a deep pine forest that was untouched by the passing years. Legolas gently stroked her hair, soft as corn silk. He kissed her lips softly.

"I love you, Elizabette Elénwen," he whispered into her hair.

They began to walk along the silent deserted shore. The white sands glittered with the chill silver light of the moon. The wild emptiness, stretching forever across the wide sea, was unnerving, yet amazing and imperceptible. For the first time she truly understood the call of the sea. As she had not come from Middle- Earth, and had not lived there long, she had not had time to feel the desire that the sea awoke in the elves. Now, seeing it calmly, she saw the majesty and power of it. She felt that she could almost sense Ulmo, the Vala of the Water. She felt a sudden desire for the shelter of Legolas' embrace, and turned back to him.

Legolas sensed her feelings and drew his arms around her, pulling her close. Her hair flowed over her back and glimmered in the moonlight. He bowed his head and she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. The moonlight lay over everything, illuminating white and receding into the shadows.

Legolas gently tilted her face and kissed her, feeling her warmth. His kiss was sensitive and tender yet fiercely passionate, both soothing and invigorating her. Such as the elves were. Elizabette's blood thrilled at his touch and she slipped her arms around him, keeping him there.

Legolas stared into her eyes, trying to read her expression. Her gray eyes were bottomless, holding myriads of emotions, some of which he could not comprehend. The sparkling stars in the fathomless abyss invited him to surrender himself into the infinite depths of her mind.

Legolas pulled back with regret. Elizabette's long eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at the moon. The stars shone bright down to the sands and her heart rejoiced.

Legolas' hands were warm on her back and she looked up at his face. She gently smoothed a strand of blond hair from his face and closed her eyes, feeling safe in his arms. Everything was silent, and above, the stars twinkled with iridescent light.

Legolas sensed that she desired to tell him something but was holding back. He could feel it in her manner and see it in her eyes.

"What is wrong?" he whispered.

She shook her head and avoided his eyes. "Nothing is... _ wrong_..."

"What is it?"

She lifted her eyes slowly. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?" he asked, his blue gaze intense and questioning.

"For everything..." She dropped her eyes and bowed her head.

Legolas slipped his arms around her waist, drawing her close. She dropped her face onto his shoulder, taking comfort from him. The smooth texture of his green silken tunic was soft against her cheek, and the fabric was warm with the heat of his body.

"It's all right," he whispered gently. "Relax. You have all of the endless circles of the world to achieve your wishes."

Elizabette looked up suddenly. "Eternity, Legolas. It _is_ a long time."

-

And here we have it, part one of the epilogue. No, this is _not _the end... although it could be.


	14. Epilogue Part II

**Tried to satisfy a few requests... Hope it's acceptable, Elven Fate... I didn't want to write the Ithilien part because... it's not really important to the story. And if you want more... passion, check out my ff story, listed on my profile:) I tried with this one... but it disgusts me. Sorry. You can always email me, you know!**

-

Later that evening, the elves sat grouped around the center of the largest garden, some singing, some talking. Elizabette sat alone, listening, before drawing out her silver flute. She began to play a melody of such pure sweetness that many looked around.

Elizabette ended the melody with a clear trilling vibrato and looked up. She glanced around, slipping the flute back into her pocket. She had not intended to draw so much attention.

A hint of movement caught her eye, and she saw Legolas and Gimli making their way toward her up a side path. Gimli was grumbling over something, and Elizabette sat still to catch the words.

"...you elves like music too much, anyhow, _I_ don't see how you can be so enraptured..."

Elizabette grinned, turning away. She waited for their footsteps to become loud behind her before turning.

Gimli surveyed her. "I thought elves were supposed to be able to hear things a long way off- the hoofbeats of horses and such. Here we find one who did not hear us approach."

Elizabette's attempt to hide her laugh was valiant, if unsuccessful. "I heard you," she replied. "You, at least, Gimli. The heavy tread of dwarf boots will sound heavier than that of light Elven-slippers."

Legolas grinned. "You should replace your boots with Elven- shoes, Gimli," he suggested.

Gimli snorted, causing one or two of the other elves to look around in alarm. "A fine spectacle I'd make, tiptoeing around in those little shoes your kind wear! I'd fall on my face, most likely."

With hardly a pause, he switched back to an earlier subject. "Music," he said, shaking his head, "you elves like it far too much, after all, it won't make you wealthy or anything of the sort... not like gold.

"Now, I've nothing against a pretty song now and again," he said, seeing Elizabette raise her eyebrows, "that music you just played there was quite unusual, m'lady. But in general, music won't get you anywhere."

With a laughing glance at one another, Elizabette and Legolas burst into simultaneous peals of mirth.

Gimli continued in the same vein, ignoring the amusement of his audience. "Laughter, also. Elves laugh entirely too much. Life is not a reign of frivolity, you know."

Elizabette managed to stop laughing. "Nor is it a vale of tears," she replied.

"Tears can be happy," Legolas put in.

Feláren came over and sat beside Elizabette, clearly curious about the conversation. Elizabette spoke to her for a moment, and when she turned back to the conversation between Legolas and Gimli, Legolas was saying,

"-seen the Lady Galadriel?"

Gimli shrugged his broad shoulders. "Once or twice, around here," he said. Quickly changing the subject, he said, "These flowers are fair enough," gesturing at the varied blooms scattered around them. "Valinor is a nice place," he said. "Not the sort of thing you're used to, is it, my friend? After that gloomy place you called home?"

Both Legolas and Feláren grinned. They had been born in Mirkwood and loved it, for all its dimness. Elizabette, however, was more inclined to agree with Gimli.

After a time she stood to slip away to her room. Legolas caught her eye and sent her a questioning glance. She nodded slightly, dropping her eyes. He smiled swiftly and turned back to the conversation.

She slipped off into her own room and curled up on the bed with a book. She was surprised by a light tap on the door half an hour later.

"Come in," she said.

Legolas slipped in. She closed the book and sat up.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

Legolas sat beside her on the bed, an arm around her, letting her lean her head on his shoulder. They were silent for a while, each immersed in their own thoughts. Then Legolas spoke.

"Do you care for me, Elizabette?"

Elizabette looked around, startled. "Of course," she said. "I've loved you since I first met you, but I didn't know it until you showed me."

"Then will you wed with me?"

His quick question surprised her slightly, but she had the grace not to show it. She knew that Legolas was rushing because he was nervous, though his face was impassive and she could read no expression in his eyes.

Did she love him? Of course, she had told him so a moment before. Had she any reasons not to marry him?

They were on Valinor now. They were safe. Had she any reasons to refuse?

Legolas waited calmly for her answer. His composure was complete; for a moment she believed that he did not care what her answer might be.

"Yes, Legolas, I will."

The joy on his face then told her quite clearly that his composure before had been merely a mask over his emotions. His blue eyes danced, and his smile grew. She flung herself into his arms and he held her tightly, and they could feel each other's heartbeats.

Slowly she drew back. She lifted her face hopefully to his and he allowed his mouth to sink down on hers, his lips gentle but his mouth hungry. Elizabette pressed into him, an arm sliding almost lazily around his neck.

After a time Legolas rose and held out a hand. She took it and he pulled her up. Legolas caught up his cloak from the table where he had laid it.

"We can sleep here, if you like," Elizabette suggested.

Legolas appraised the room. He nodded. "All right. I'll return in an hour or so."

Elizabette smiled and stepped over to the window as he closed the door.

She was curled up on her bed, reading, when he tapped lightly on the door later.

"Legolas? Come in."

He opened the door and slipped in, closing it behind him. He wore his green cloak over his sleeping clothes. She looked up and smiled, closing the book.

It was not late, but both were tired, and they hastened into bed together. She kissed his cheek, and they slipped into sleep.

---

In the morning Elizabette woke when the early morning light just began to filter into the room. Legolas was still asleep, she thought, but she could not be entirely certain.

She shifted and looked out of the window. The light was still of the early morning quality, steely blue and icy cold, freezing time until the birds broke the chilly silence. Her window looked out to the garden, and she could see no sign of movement around the grassy paths and bowers of flowers.

She slid back down into the warm bed and curled up beside him. Legolas' eyelids flickered and he closed his eyes briefly before turning to look at her.

He rolled over to face her. "Mán' arinya," _(Good morning)_ he said softly.

She returned the greeting, commenting, "I can never tell if you are asleep or awake."

He smiled lazily. "I've been asleep. But it's still early, is it not?"

She nodded. "No one seems to be awake." She paused briefly. "Nainëwen will be watching to see you leave the room," she added.

Legolas shrugged. "She can't watch forever. And I doubt she's awake yet."

"You'd better go before she wakes."

He nodded. "I'll go now."

She slipped out of bed after him. She watched him put on his shoes and wrap his cloak around his shoulders. He paused before leaving to embrace her and kiss her softly. "I'll see you at breakfast," he whispered, before slipping out of the room.

Elizabette dressed quickly and went to the dining hall. Feláren was there, but a quick glance told her that Elrond was not present.

She slipped into the seat beside Feláren. "Mán' arin," she greeted her friend.

Feláren smiled. "You seem happy this morning," she said.

Elizabette nodded. Tossing Feláren a half- smile, she replied simply, "I am."

Feláren raised her eyebrows. "Why?" she asked with interest.

Elizabette laughed aloud. "I'll tell you later," she said.

At that moment Legolas stepped into the hall. He glanced around briefly before taking the seat beside Elizabette. "Mán' arin," he greeted them.

Legolas glanced around the hall again before serving himself. "Have you seen Nainëwen?"

Elizabette answered, though the question was directed at both of them. "No. I doubt she would wake early. Have you seen her, Feláren?"

A slight frown crossed Feláren's face as she shook her head. Elizabette sensed her piecing together the puzzle: Elizabette was happy. Legolas rarely sat with her for the morning meal. He had inquired about Nainëwen, who was known for spying on them.

Elizabette kept her eyes on her food, trying not to laugh out loud.

Feláren breathed in her ear, "Are you..."

"Betrothed?" Elizabette answered, just as quietly. "Yes."

Feláren grinned. "Since when?"

"Last evening," Elizabette replied softly.

"Have you announced it yet?" Feláren asked of both of them.

Legolas replied, "No."

"Congratulations," Feláren said.

Half an hour later, Legolas and Elizabette walked down the path in the garden. They approached Gimli the Dwarf, who was examining a large golden flower.

As they reached the dwarf, Elizabette was saying, "And I haven't seen Elrond anywhere..." She broke off as Gimli looked up.

"Good day," he said.

"Mána arya," Legolas returned, causing the dwarf to snort.

Gimli looked down at the flower again. "So fine that it could almost be made of gold," he commented.

Legolas grinned and perched on the edge of the stone fountain, but Elizabette stopped dead as she heard hoofbeats on the garden paths. At almost the same moment, a voice in her mind spoke,

_Elizabette. I found Elrond. Would you care to go on a ride?_

_I'd love to. _

_I'm coming._

Legolas showed no sign that he had heard the sounds, but she did not doubt for a moment that he had. It was only just before the chestnut horse rounded the curve in the grassy paths that Gimli heard the hooves.

"That is a horse!" he exclaimed.

Elizabette tried not to snicker. "Apparently," she replied.

Súláríl came up to her. She touched his finely chiseled face. _Hello, Súláríl._

"Is that not one of the horses that came on the ship?" Gimli demanded, realizing.

Elizabette nodded. "He's mine."

_I am not yours!_

_As Gimli understands the meaning of 'mine', you are._

The chestnut snorted and Elizabette laughed. Gimli frowned at her briefly blank face. "What's wrong with you?"

Elizabette only laughed again. "You wouldn't understand," she replied. She turned to Legolas. "Súláríl says he's found Elrond-"

_I have!_

"-and I shall go to see him."

Legolas nodded. "See you later, then," he said, kissing her brow.

Elizabette smiled, and, grasping a few long strands of mane, vaulted onto Súláríl's reddish back. She waved her hand briefly, eyes dancing, and she and Súláríl trotted away.

Gimli frowned suspiciously. "What is happening?" he demanded.

Legolas grinned. "Elizabette is going to see Elrond," he replied. "As she just said."

Gimli frowned again. "No. I meant, what is happening, with you? Why are you so happy? Why does she want to see Elrond, anyway? What has she to do with him?" After a pause, he added, "Why did she tell me I would not understand?"

Legolas laughed aloud at that. "You like to understand," he replied. Just to tease the dwarf, he called in his mind, _Silrocca!_

_Yes, cundunya?_

_I'm not a prince anymore. Don't call me that._

_Why not? You may have renounced your title, but you are still a prince by birth._

_Fine. _

_What did you want?_

_Can you come here?_

_So you can make sport of Gimli? I think not._

_I won't tease him. I just want to show him how we communicate. _

There was a pause, as he felt her examine his thoughts to consider his intentions. Then she replied, _I'm coming._

"Legolas! You have done it also!"

"Done what?" Legolas inquired innocently.

"You've made your face go blank. Why? Don't tell me I won't understand."

Pretending to consider, Legolas paused. When Gimli started to look annoyed, he replied, "It is how I speak to my horse, Silrocca. We communicate through our minds."

Gimli looked skeptical, but Legolas added, "I called her. She is coming. You will see." He could already hear the hoofbeats.

Several minutes later, Silrocca stood in front of them. Her nostrils flared, but there were no other signs that she had cantered all the way there.

_Did you knock anyone over?_

_No. Several elves were quite disturbed, however,_ she replied with a distinct flash of amusement.

"Here she is," he said to Gimli, who still looked half disbelieving. "All elves speak to their horses in this manner." With a grin, he added, "Would you like to ride?"

The dwarf shuddered quite visibly. "No, thank you! there is no need to go anywhere."

Silrocca whinnied, causing Gimli to jump into the air.

_You'll disturb everyone you haven't run over already,_ Legolas chided gently. In answer, she nuzzled his hands.

Legolas seated himself on a wooden bench. Silrocca asked, _ Can I stay here?_

_If you want to._ He was slightly surprised. Usually she preferred the open hills to the gardens.

Gimli took a cookie out of his pocket and began to eat as the gray mare carefully lay down in the long grass. _Keep your mind open,_ she warned him. _I can tell what Elizabette is saying to Elrond. It might be interesting._

_Isn't that spying?_

_No. Súláríl can close anything he doesn't want us to know._

_Have they begun talking yet? _

_No. They are still riding. _

Gimli said to the elf, "What did she say to you?"

"She asked me to keep my mind open."

"Open?"

"Not to block her comments," he explained.

"Why?"

"Silrocca is listening to Elizabette's thoughts," he replied. "She will tell me when Elizabette and Elrond are talking."

The dwarf frowned. "Where did she come from, anyway? The elf. Is she from Mirkwood?"

"No," Legolas replied.

"I thought not. She appears different. But I believed that everyone on that last ship was from Mirkwood."

Legolas nodded. "Most of us were."

Gimli was beginning to get exasperated. "Where is she from then?"

"That you would have to ask her," the prince said. "She might not want me to tell you."

Gimli frowned but didn't comment. "She seems a nice elf, as elves go," he said.

Legolas nodded, choosing to ignore the latter part of the comment. "She is."

He received another suspicious glance for that. "How did you two meet then?"

Legolas raised his eyebrows. "We did not 'meet', exactly. It was in a land far off. We didn't know each other very well then. Soon, we returned to Mirkwood, where Elizabette began to solve a problem and soothe many of our people. But the problem could not be solved there and we were sent on a mission by Elrond to destroy its source. So we did. It was during that mission that we really began to know each other. Then we returned to the palace to find that though the root of the problem was solved, many losses had occurred and my father was dead. Many more things happened, and we decided to come here." He paused to consider. "Elizabette never liked Mirkwood. I think that she is inclined to agree with you on that subject." He tried not to laugh out loud at the dwarf's obvious confusion and annoyance.

Gimli snorted. "Can't you give me any more details?"

"No."

"I suppose I shall have to ask her when she returns, then."

Legolas was about to reply when Silrocca lifted her head and said, _Súláríl says that Elizabette wants to know what you are so amused about. She read your amusement through Súláríl, who read it through me._

"Why did you send it to him?" Legolas asked her aloud. She snorted.

_Súláríl always knows what I am feeling or thinking, and I was listening to your conversation. What should I tell him?_

_"_Say that Gimli desires knowledge of her background," Legolas replied, grinning.

He felt her relay the message. In a moment she said, _They have reached Elrond._

"Why did she want to see Elrond?" Gimli demanded.

He raised his eyebrows. "Last evening she received information through an unreliable source that Elrond wished to see her. She does not know if it is true."

Gimli snorted. "Why should it not be?"

"The source could have desired only to speak with her," Legolas replied carefully. "She could have wished only to have an excuse to do so."

Gimli began to reply, but Legolas felt a burst of surprised amusement through Silrocca. Instantly he knew that it was Elizabette's emotion.

_What is it?_ he asked Silrocca.

_I don't know. Súláríl is blocking it._

A moment later, another burst of emotion, this time tinged with embarrassment.

_They're letting it through,_ Silrocca said, _but I can't tell what they're saying._

_They'll be back soon,_ he said.

And soon Elizabette was back. She rode on Súláríl, and Elrond walked beside her. Elizabette slid frown the horse's back and went to sit beside Legolas while Súláríl nuzzled his mother. Elrond smiled at the two of them sitting there, and Gimli frowned suspiciously.

"You have my blessing," Elrond said to them.

Both smiled. "Thank you," said Legolas.

"You hadn't announced it yet?"

Elizabette shook her head. "We were going to ask you to announce it," she replied.

Elrond smiled again. "Then I shall," he said, and walked down the path.

Gimli frowned again. "What's happening?" he demanded. "Blessings for what?"

Both elves only smiled.

Gimli continued to puzzle. Finally Elizabette laughed aloud. "Gimli," she said. "I shall give you a hint. Elrond is my great- uncle."

Gimli gaped at her. "Your great uncle?" Then he seemed to get the message. "Are you going to be married?" he demanded, looking from one to the other.

Both nodded. Gimli continued to gape. Elizabette and Legolas struggled not to laugh.

Finally Gimli collected himself. "Good wishes, I suppose," he grunted, and walked away.

Later that evening Elizabette and Legolas were again in the garden. Elrond had announced the betrothal.

Legolas glanced questioningly into her eyes. "Where are you going to sleep tonight?" he whispered.

She shook her head, but he saw wistful desire cross her face, and knew that his own expression matched hers. "I can't," she whispered back. "Elrond said I should be careful."

He nodded, drawing her close. She lifted her head to touch her lips to his.

---

The wedding was held a month later. The ceremony flashed by for Elizabette. That evening, after much feasting and merrymaking, Elizabette and Legolas left the festivities and went to their new chamber. Elizabette stood at the window, looking at the moon. Legolas came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"A nice view, is it not?" he asked.

She nodded. "I can see the stone fountain," she said after a moment of staring down the dim paths.

Legolas smiled suddenly. "Nainëwen's apology was surprising," he said. "I did not expect her to come at all."

Elizabette lifted her head. "Neither did I," she replied. "I couldn't blame her for being angry, though."

Legolas laughed softly at that. "I think she'll try to be civil now," he said.

"Hopefully," she replied.

Elizabette slid into bed beside him. He drew his arms around her, pulling her close. She could feel his warmth, and he hers. He kissed her, pressing against her, and she responded, her arms around him, her lips against his.

"Ni mertyë," _(I missed you)_ she whispered to him when he drew back.

"Ar ni tyë," _(And you) _he replied, his arm around her.

---

Several months later, Legolas noticed that Elizabette was sometimes withdrawn, speaking little. He made a point of questioning her during one of these moments.

"What is wrong, Elizabette?" he asked.

She lifted her head. "Nothing is wrong."

"Then why are you withdrawn these days?"

She lifted her head, and her eyes, clear gray as always, danced with both pleasure and something else- something disquieting. Legolas, considering for a moment, decided that it was faint nervousness.

"What is it?"

"I- I think I'm- with child."

That, for certain, was not the answer he expected, but it pleased him more than anything. "Are you sure?" he asked.

She smiled. "I'm sure."

He embraced her joyously; she tilted her face to press her lips against his. "When?" he asked. "Do you know?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm not sure."

The days turned into weeks; the weeks blended into months; the months passed quickly. Life on Valinor was a blur of joy; but some magic in the land mingled the days so that one could not remember how long they had been there. It seemed that the whole world was happy; no one sorrowed, no one cried any tears but those of happiness. It was the pure virtue in the clear air.

Ten months after the wedding, a child was born to Elizabette. His curls, the color of Legolas' hair, were soft as silk, and his cheeks round and rosy, but his most startling feature was his eyes. Not blue, like Legolas', nor gray, like Elizabette's, but a blend of the two, a clear blue- gray, the color of the sea.

He was Elizabette's pride. She and Legolas named him Ëarannwë, Gift of the Sea. His curly hair, unusual for elves, was surprising to most, and he was admired by everyone. Elizabette became accustomed to her new life, and felt that she was truly ready to settle into the endless circles of her world. Her happiness was unbroken by nothing.

-

That's all. Typically, I still have more material on my computer, but I'm not inclined to post it... and there you are. Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, recommended, or put me on their author alerts.

**Thanks to everyone, and I guess this is a final goodbye... **


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